The Christmas Donut Revolution by Gregg Sapp

Author:Gregg Sapp
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: christmas, holidays, humor in fiction, satire in fiction, humorous and satirical fiction, best contemporary literary fiction, pay it forward
Publisher: Evolved Publishing LLC
Published: 2019-11-18T00:00:00+00:00

3:35 PM

Being an on-call limo driver meant having a lot of down time, just waiting for that call. While Adam Erb was busy serving donuts inside the Polaris Drip ‘n’ Donuts shop, Jay-Rome sat in the parking lot with the Hummer’s heater on max, watching wind devils sweep falling and drifting snow into bizarre, undulating patterns. It was the finest snow that he’d ever seen, like fairy dust that flashed and glittered, forming brilliant streaks against the steely gray skies. It was mesmerizing.

Jay-Rome shook his shoulders and rubbed his eyes. There was no telling how long his boss might stick around the donut shop, because he was easily entertained and so long as peddling donuts continued to amuse him, he’d keep it up... but the moment that he decided the thrill had worn off, he’d want to hit the road out of there pronto. Jay-Rome had to be ready, in either case.

Looking for any diversion, he turned on the radio and flipped through station after station, until he heard the voice of his favorite news babe, D’Nisha Glint.

“Good afternoon. This is D’Nisha Glint reporting on a heartwarming story that is unfolding right now on the north side of the city, at the Drip ‘n’ Donuts store on Cleveland Avenue....”

Hot damn, Jay-Rome thought, I wish I was there right now. Picturing her in his mind made him wiggle in his Drawers.

”Damn,” he muttered to himself. It bothered him that he’d missed D’Nisha Glint, just because his boss had gotten his feelings hurt and left in a huff. It always happened that way, though. He was always on call to go someplace where somebody else wanted to go, never where he himself wanted to be. He often fantasized about stretching out in the back of the limo in his silk pajamas with a fat blunt, a bottle of Mocato, and D’Nisha Glint on her knees in front of him, while Adam Erb, wearing one of those dumb, little boys’ caps that chauffeurs wore, would call back to him, “Where to, Boss?”

On the radio, some kid with a puppy voice was talking happy bullshit. “We’re all in this together.”

‘I wish that was true,” Jay-Rome thought.

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