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.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Olympic Memories

Twenty years ago this week, I - along with my family - was sitting in my house watching the Opening Ceremonies of the Summer Olympics.  I have always loved watching the Olympics, but this time was different.  This time, the Games were not on some far-away continent.  These Games were in my own hometown!  In fact, just the night before, I had been in Olympic Stadium - now Turner Field - watching the dress rehearsal for what I was watching on tv.  Now, twenty years later, some of my most vivid memories remain: The seemingly always-crowded highways of Atlanta were practically desolate, providing a seldom-seen sight. Meeting the Frenchman who wondered if I had ever heard of the book about the Civil War written by an Atlanta woman named Margaret Mitchell. The dress rehearsal crowd cheering wildly during the parade of nations for the entry of the flag from (the nation of) Georgia. Attending the women's gymnastics podium trials, watching the Magnificent 7 prepa...

The Centennial

          It has been almost 25 years . . .and I still remember it crystal clearly.  It was a Wednesday morning in September and I was on my way to school.  I was in the front passenger seat of my parents’ minivan while my father drove.  We lived exactly one mile from the school, so it was not a long trip.  Typically, we would use the brief drive to talk about what was happening at school that day, but not on this day.  On this particular morning, we sat in silence, listening to the radio and waiting... waiting for something to happen half a world away.           At that very moment, in Japan, a ballroom full of people was waiting, as well.  They watched as the man stepped up to the podium and began to speak.  As we arrived at the school came the moment that will live in infamy . . .in my hometown, at least.  My father stopped the car at the edge of the sch...

Playing Slots

             It is impossible to win on these machines, I thought.  Playing an airport slot machine is basically throwing away money, I was certain.  But, I had a long layover between flights and was looking for a way to pass the time.  I could see the neon glow of the Las Vegas Strip through the windows, but I did not have enough time to make that trip.  Despite my doubts, then, I sat down at a quarter machine near my gate and dropped in one dollar.  That was all that I would spend, I assured myself.  If nothing else, I would not be out much money.               I sat at the machine and, every few seconds, pressed the blinking button that sent the rolls spinning.  I would win. . . then lose. . . then win the small sum that I was playing.  When I looked and saw that I actually was ahead, I decided to q...