The Best Damned Donut led me to Murdo Mike

I don’t like donuts. Not really. Every once in awhile I’ll get “a hankering” and enjoy one, but mostly they just make me feel sick to my stomach.

Yesterday, I was driving through South Dakota and kept seeing huge billboards for a drugstore in a town called “Wall.” I swear they were every 50 feet. They started hundreds of miles away, and then got more and more frequent as I got closer to the town. At first, I was offended. “Wow…they really are being pushy. There’s no way I’m falling for that. I’m not gonna stop.” As time passed, however, I started looking for them. Just as I was getting a bit lonely for their company, one would show up. I started laughing, and looking out for them. Things got kind of crazy as I started cheering them on every time they passed me by.

I started to panic as the town got closer. Should I stop? Should I just keep going?

Damn it.

I’m stopping.

I drove through the line of old-timey shops at first, looking for a parking spot. I looped around once, parked at the very end of the street, and stretched my legs. I went into “Entrance #4” and was bombarded by the most intoxicating scent of some baked good that I’ve never smelled before. I followed my nose, and found a counter sellling small batch, hand made donuts. I looked them over quickly, then turned around to see if I could find something to buy. After spending 30 minutes walking around this huge mecca of merchandise, passing by a chapel down a long hallway designed for travelers, I realized there was absolutely nothing that I needed; for myself, or my family, or my friends.

I walked back in the direction I came from, this time walking outside instead of inside the long train of connected shops. As I neared the end, that smell engulfed me. That heavenly smell! I opened the heavy wooden door and bee-lined it to the counter. A beautiful teenager, with a Jamaican accent, asked if she could help me. Well, I really wanted to ask her what her story was, and could she take some time over a 5 cent cup of coffee to tell me, but decided the timing wasn’t quite right.

I asked for a maple frosted donut, please.

She handed it to me and said, “You have a wonderful day, ma’am.”

I got back in my car and ate this bit of deep fried perfection as I drove back onto the highway.

This was no ordinary donut.

This donut has reached self-actualization! This donut is what all donuts are striving to be! This is “the grand daddy of all donuts”! This is what donuts want to be when they grow up!

This was simply the best damned donut.

I drove along for about an hour and decided to stop for gas in Murdo. I pulled up to the pump, and stood opposite from a cowboy with a big shiny buckle and gleaming white hat. The wind was blowing like crazy, and my gypsy skirt was billowing and whipping about my legs. After a few moments, he began a conversation…

“California, huh.”

“Yep.”

“What brings you all the way out here.”

“I’m driving clear across the country to Plum Island, Massachusetts.”

(He smiles and shakes his head.)

“Well, I’m on a similar trip, although I just came from Wyoming.”

“I just left Wyoming this morning. My good friends have a ranch in Banner.”

“Banner”, he nods.

“Where do you live?”

“A small town named Cody. I’m headed out to Iowa for my dad’s 81st birthday. You know, there’s a story about a girl who did just what you are doing. She drove from L.A to New York, but fell in love in Wyoming along the way, and went back there. She’s been there for 10 years. She’s got a website called “The Daily Coyote.”

“My mom drove from Plum Island to California, fell in love with a man in Wyoming, stayed with me for three months, then went back there. She stayed for 10 years until she died. I scattered her ashes on Plum Island. So I’m heading back, doing what she did.”

He shakes his head.

“Here. Give me your phone number in case you get in trouble out here.”

I hold out my hand and ask his name.

“Mike.”

I smile.

He says, “This is crazy. I never do anything like this.”

“Well, my husband’s name is Mike, my brother’s name is Mike, and I just came from the home of one of the kindest hearted people on the planet named Mike, so I think it’s alright. My name’s Amber.”

“Amber. Well, you holler if you need anything. I’m a deputy sheriff in Cody. You be careful.”

“You too. Thank you. Drive safe…”

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/12/14/wall-drug-south-dakota-billboard-photos_n_2296122.html