Not too long after I got taken on and started writing here at Jalopnik, Ray taught me several very important lessons. One of the biggest ones was an essential idiom: Donuts involve spinning tires; doughnuts go well with coffee. Cue cravings.
Shall we pay tribute to the humble, profoundly unhealthy, supremely irresistible doughnut, as perfectly engineered a decadent food trifle as has ever been invented? Given that we as a people appreciate round objects, its shape is naturally appealing. Given the importance of breakfast (well, importance of something to modulate that coffee), its traditional intention is respectable. Given the evolution of the human taste sense, the combination of sweet and savory is...okay, back in a second.
Never mind the fascinating cultural connotations, especially relating to those sworn to serve and protect. Hey, if I had to wear that uniform and carry ten pounds on my belt and face all that stress, I'd appreciate a treat once in a while, too. Along with a few other conveniences, as Prfctapex related in his tale of a cheerful flatfoot who partook of rolling facilities and ended up at exactly the right place at exactly the right time:
I bet the dude driving that truck was a popular guy.
Many years ago, I snagged the same job when I was a volunteer for the Rose Parade. I was using my truck to pull around the "blue room" and folks staffing the remote barricades were overjoyed when I pulled up, usually with the snack truck just behind me in an interesting I/O pairing.
The best part of the whole night was when I stopped to offer similar comfort to a CHP officer manning a barricade. He thanked me profusely, asked if I could direct traffic for a bit, and then sauntered into the mobile Splat Chalet.
A few minutes later, an older rotund gentleman accompanied by a young blonde in his brandy new Mercedes SL pulled up and demanded to be let through between puffs of his Cohiba. I told him that I could not let him pass, he said "he knew people who could get me fired" from my volunteer job, and then proceeded to get out of the car and offer to kick my ass for not moving the barricade while the blonde also screeched at me. About this time, the CHiPpie exited the relief station, saw what was going on, and invited the gentleman to enjoy a puff of his Intoximeter. The douchecanoe failed miserably and the officer and I shared a good chuckle along with a fresh donut (snack wagon pulled up just behind the rollback) as a taxi spirited the young lady away and the SL got a ride to the impound yard with Pasadena PD providing a nice New Year's Eve party locale for the driver.
So, remember kids, be careful out there as you just never know what kind of shit is going to rain down on you from an Andy Gump on a trailer.
Photo Credit: Paul Holloway