SK Donuts! Go there! Now! And bring me back one!

I never loved donuts before I met SK. Our relationship was tumultuous. Fond memories revolved around the old fashioned maple donuts my dad and I used to fetch weekend mornings from time to time. But still, they were the kind of food that seemed like a good idea until the dramatic blood sugar drop off, resulting in what I like to deem, a donut hangover. Also, a downfall for me is my sensitive stomach and all that grease would make it an acidic wasteland and give me heartburn (who has these issues and is under the age of fifty?)

But then there was SK. I hadn't had a donut in years. Donuty things, certainly, croissants, cinnamon rolls, but not an actual donut. It just never seemed worth the inevitable discomfort or all the calories. Upon recommendation, I visited SK. Perusing the counters. Forming a brief, spontaneous relationship with the sights. They were familiar. Crullers, apple fritters, old fashioneds, everything very ordinary. But what would happen next was anything but typical.

I ordered an apple fritter. And melted into the light, airy donut, the fresh gooey apples, the sweet, but not disgustingly sweet, glaze. Slight hints of cinnamon and spice. It was perfection. Beauty! Art! Who was its creator? Surely I must make out with him a little, if only to taste the remnants of the last perfect donut he consumed.

Another favorite, the crullers. Like consuming a sweet cloud from heaven. And the maple bars. Ambrosia on ambrosia. Zeus food.

SK Donuts. You're delicious and don't make me feel like I'm going to have a heart attack (with a smile on my face) or wake up the next morning as a 2 ton heifer (with a smile on my snout). I'm in love with you. I'm ready to take our relationship to the next level. I'm moving in. I won't need closet space. I'm only bringing napkins and a toothbrush.