Everybody Loves Lipitor

Tuesday night, Jessie went with me to the Comedy Death Ray at M Bar. While we were driving over, my mom called me and laid on me the most amazing, outlandish, cocakamamy anti-smoking rap I have ever heard. I'm pretty sure it's going in my stand-up act. If only I had it on tape.

Jessie and I had some time to kill before the show, and I suggested a few places we could go to get something to eat. For some reason, it was Winchell's that lit Jessie's fire. So we walked over, and -- because you really can't go to a doughnut joint and buy just one doughnut apparently -- Jessie ended up buying a dozen. This was the inventory:

4 glazed raised
2 cinnamon rolls (twenty-five cents extra)
1 glazed with sprinkles
1 crumb
1 old-fashioned
1 chocolate raised
1 chocolate bar
2 chocolate frosted cake with sprinkles
1 glazed twist

I only ate one doughnut. And even that was more than I wanted. Jessie felt buyer's remorse almost immediately. There's something embarrassing about carrying around a box of doughnuts. There's no arguing that.

The clientele in the Winchell's all had some form of dried paint on them. And a rag of some sort tucked into their utility belts or waistbands. One big guy saw us sitting down and said, "Are you guys going to eat all those?" Defiantly, I said, "Maybe." And he smilingly said, "That's not very healthy." And I placed a hash mark in my mental tally of incidents that prove how absolutely devoid of game most dudes are. I guess I can't have expected more. We were in a Winchell's after all.

I ran into plenty of friends at the show. And because it was about to be Tammy's birthday, I invited her and Jeff to go to Canter's with me so I could buy her something. Which turned out to be carrot cake. Jessie had to go home, so I drove her back to her car before meeting Tammy and Jeff. And I was not terribly surprised when I got home and went to walk Audrey to find that Jessie had left a naked glazed raised doughnut (pretty much the only kind I eat) sitting on top of the empty Arrowhead bottle at my front door. What's even more amazing is that I ate it. In my defense, I knew how long it had been sitting there (not very), and it wasn't visibly marked with any sort of fecal matter, but still. What state of mind could I have possibly been in? Mary Forrest does not eat food found on the street. I didn't eat the whole thing. But if you ever wanted to poison me, apparently all you'd have to do is leave something I like on my doorstep and make sure I find it when I've still got a little bit of a buzz on.