Disaster

About four or five years ago, when the Krispy Kreme donut ship had just docked in the UK, and everyone was going insane in the membrane about them, I decided to see what the hoohah was about. I consider myself to be a huge fan of donuts, in every sense, and these were said to be the Kreme de la Kreme of their genre, so my expectations were high. I bought my favourite, a simple glazed ring, and bit in. As I chewed, I could sense my thighs and buttocks sighing with relief as I realised that it just wasn't that nice. There was an overpowering vanilla flavour that was too strong, the glaze was too thin and the texture was too gooey. I would certainly be able to resist them in future.

And since then, I have resisted completely. I regularly walk past a Krispy Kreme outlet in Liverpool Street station, and am never tempted. I turn down all offers when people buy the huge KK selection boxes for an office celebration. All it takes is for me to recall the slightly sickening sensation of the glazed ring of yore, and I remember that eating one would be wasted fat. There are plenty of other ways for me to triple my recommended daily calorific intake that are far more delicious.

Or so I thought.

Claiming hunger a few moments ago after a diminuitive lunch of an EAT chicken salad and a few sticks of pineapple and mango, I emailed Laura for assistance. Seconds later, she entered my office with a donut reverently held before her on a white napkin. Like the one I'd sampled years before, it was round and glazed, but this one was covered with an additional sprinkling of white chocolate curls. We performed the dissection. Nuclear-red jam oozed out. Cautiously, I took my half, unconvinced: if the glazed ring circa 2006 had been was sickly, how bad would it be with the addition of further dough, neon jam and white chocolate? Nonetheless, weak and frail with post-lunch starvation, I bravely pushed my fears to one side and took a bite. Sweet god of all things heavenly and unhealthy, but it was delicious. Firm but moist, smooth and sweet, offset with a good and unusually central pocket tangy jam and the textural surprise of the thick chocolate shavings. My half was gone in a matter of seconds. And when Laura said she didn't want the rest of her section, I picked up the remaining third and forced it down too.

Now they are all I can think about. Much like Pringles, I fear I have popped and will now be unable to stop. I have opened the sluice gates, and an obsession with Krispy Kremes has begun. My mouth is awash with donut-infused saliva. I need more. I must have more. I will stop at nothing to get another. Although I can't quite be bothered to stand up. If the only thing that will save me from clinical obesity is my own laziness, I think we're in a serious situation here.