There’s just something about donuts.
I still remember going to coffee and donuts in the Large Hall after mass on Sundays. I also remember feeling guilty about whether our family was “donating” the right amount to account for all the donuts my cousins and I ate, ha!
But there’s some kind of pull that donuts have, whether free, paid for, or under the pretense of “free.” As guilty as people may feel about eating them, they’re almost always worth the guilt. They make people happy, they bring people together, and they make a good impression.

I started “using” donuts when I was a new secretary for an intermediate school. I interacted on a daily basis with so many people at the District Office that I never actually met face to face. And I relied on them and their kindness – whether to be responsive to my 100th question as a newbie or to expedite something I needed done or approved right away. And somehow donuts came in to the equation. Every now and then (not often because let’s be real, they’re not THAT cheap and I was pretty fucking broke) I’d drop off a dozen donuts to various departments. At first it was just the maintenance department since I put in a million facility requests…but once I saw the positive effect, it quickly expanded to Ed Services, Fiscal, and HR (a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do).
Although I usually put my school name on the box of donuts rather than my own (it felt selfish and too transparent, ha!), I interacted with people in those departments when I dropped them off. And they were appreciative: it was a kind act that didn’t go unnoticed. And they always remembered who dropped them off. So they remembered me. So my emails were replied to quickly…my work orders were addressed when I called to check up, and usually with a kind word.
Fast forward a few years, and I now work at the District Office. I truly believe my easy transition into that work place was because of the familiarity those donuts gave me with a lot of individuals. I had already established connections beyond the emails back and forth.
Pre-COVID, donuts worked with my new co-workers as well. It’s something so small, but a little donut breaks up the monotony of one morning running into all the others. And I love being the person that gets to provide that moment of happiness, or distraction.
And they obviously work on my kids, too.
But I have to confess I’ve taken my donut scheme to a whole new level: my grocery store.
I love Stater Brothers. It’s my go-to grocery store every week (although our boys are quickly moving us toward Costco size grocery purchases…): I love that it’s kind of old-timey and not super modern, I know where to find everything, their produce is always great (no brown stem lettuce here…I’m looking at you, Ralph’s!), and….the meat counter. I mean…it’s a thing of beauty and wonder.
Recently I’ve been regaling Jeff with stories of my gradual conquest of the older gentleman that is most frequently attending the meat counter. It’s taken years, but recently I’ve gotten past the simple “can I get you anything else?” He’s used some terms of endearment (sweet, not creepy), and gone the extra mile to get me the cuts I wanted. So last week I thought I’d seal the deal…with donuts. I decided to split the dozen with the produce crew that also deserves and receives my gratitude, but that I don’t usually interact with directly. But it seemed like the right thing to do. So a small pink box with six donuts went to one of the produce stockers that I recognized, and another small pink box with six donuts went to Kyle behind the meat counter.
(Don’t worry everyone – I don’t call him by his name (not yet!), but there’s a name badge and how can I just ignore the fact that I now know his name?!)
We’ll see on Saturday morning if they did the trick: if my face will be more memorable because of the donuts I delivered. But on delivery day Kyle did go out of his way to thank me a couple times for the donuts. And I’m not gonna lie…I was nervous enough about my whole scheme that I forgot the ground beef.











