Skip to main content

Delayed By Doughnuts

“Come on. Let’s go,” my brother said, leading me by the arm, out of the cavernous train station.

“We don’t have time,” I argued, as he continued to lead me towards downtown Portland.

“Yeah, we do,” he retorted. “And, besides, it’s close to the station.”

My brother had been telling me about this doughnut shop in Portland, Oregon, for a long time. He had repeatedly promised to take me there on my next visit. My visit came and nearly went without a stop at this shop. I was supposed to catch a train to Seattle that afternoon. After I checked my luggage at the station, I had about forty five minutes before my train left. Enough time, my brother decided, to get a doughnut. I was not so sure. I was scared that I was going to miss my train. My attempts to suggest that it was not a good idea to leave the station proved futile and we were on our way to the doughnut shop.

In addition to traditional doughnut flavors, this shop was known for other, more unusual flavors, including Neapolitan and Butterfinger. It’s popularity was made obvious by the line that greeted my brother and me when we arrived. It was the middle of the afternoon, but there were more than one half dozen people in line ahead of us. Luckily, it was a fairly fast-moving line and my brother and I were soon on our way back to the station, doughnuts in hand.

My brother and I walked into the train station and towards the boarding area. My train was scheduled to leave in ten minutes. As I walked toward the boarding area, I noticed that there was no sign of other passengers boarding a train. I was told by a station attendant, who had probably noticed the confused look on my face, that boarding for my train had closed. I would have to wait for the next train. . .more than one hour later. With no alternative, my brother and I found seats on one of the wooden benches in the center of the station.

While we waited for the train, I tasted one of the two doughnuts I had purchased. My brother was right. They tasted great. Their popularity was well-deserved. I decided to save the rest for my trip to Seattle. After a while, I boarded the train and was off to Washington.

Three and one half hours later, the train pulled into the station in Seattle. I gathered my belongings and stepped off of the train. I had planned to be in Seattle by 3p.m. I arrived just after 7p.m. Four hours . . . and two
doughnuts . . . later, I had made it to my destination.

But they were good doughnuts.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Catch A Cab

We had been walking for about forty-five minutes, making our way from Manhattan’s South Street Seaport to the Macy’s flagship store on 34th Street. When we were within fifteen blocks of our destination, some of my companions decided that we should complete our journey by cab. Despite my attempts to convince them to keep walking, they were insistent. The trip that ensued was a true New York experience. After a few minutes of trying, one of my companions was able to hail a cab. However, we wanted to go north. The cab that stopped was going south. It did not seem to matter, though, as my companions still got in the cab. One person sat in the front while I slipped into the backseat, between the other two. Hardly before the doors could close, the driver had fought his way into Manhattan traffic. Without warning, he took a sharp right turn onto a side street and began to head north, steadily increasing his speed. Within seconds, the cab was weaving a
1 comment
Read more

Looking At My Luggage

More than twenty four hours had passed since I had arrived in Washington, D.C. My luggage was still nowhere to be found. Despite the promises of the airline’s agents, my missing suitcase had not yet been delivered. With no other alternative, I had spent the day touring Washington in the clothes that I had worn a day earlier. Clothes that I was still wearing. A full day had passed. My friend and I had returned to her house from dinner to find that my belongings remained missing. I promptly began calling the airline, trying to track down my baggage. The agent assured me that my luggage had been located and dropped off at my friend’s home by a delivery service the previous evening. I assured her that it had not been delivered. After more than fifteen minutes of her continued assurances, I was transferred to the delivery service. As with the airline, the delivery service assured me that my luggage had been dropped off, going so far as to give me a specific time at which i
1 comment
Read more

Pictures From the Ledge

          It was a photo opportunity that could not be missed. Why else would I be doing this? Typically, I was a very cautious person. But, there I was, with a friend, standing in a short line waiting to have our photo taken in this precarious-looking spot. I looked around me. The view was simply stunning. I could see why this was a popular photo spot.           I was nearing the front of the line. When the people ahead of me reached the front of the line, they gave me their camera, took a few steps forward and posed. I took their picture and returned their camera to them as they passed me by. Then, it was my turn. My friend and I passed our cameras to the people behind us and took our places a few steps ahead. Separately but quickly, our photos were taken and it was the next person’s turn. Before I left, though, I could not resist taking a look at where I had been standing. I briefly turned to face the late morning sky, which was cloudless and blue. The rocks, in
1 comment
Read more