Supporting Big Donut

“June, wake up…” I poked June’s face as she rested peacefully on my couch. “Wake up…”

“Auri?” She slowly rose up and rubbed her forehead like she had a headache. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh…” I looked back down the hallway at the flashing computer screen in my room, then back at her. “The CIA have taken over my computer and I need help.”

She didn’t understand what I meant until I showed her. There was a big lock screen that wanted me to put in my social security number to unlock it.

“What the heck did you do, Auri?” June asked.

“Well, I got a couple of really great comments, then I got in touch with someone who said they wanted to bring my work to life…”

June put a finger over my lips and hushed me silent. Then her other hand pinched the skin between her brows. “I can already see where this is going. You didn’t click any suspicious links they sent you, right?”

“Maybe…”

She went ahead and unplugged my computer, then asked Cal to carry it to her car.

“What’s going on?” I asked her. “Where are you taking it?”

“We’re taking a trip down to the hardware store in the morning and we’ll have them fix your computer,” she claimed in the most disappointed tone possible. “But I’m not going back to bed, so let's get lattes…”

/(-.-)\

We made a stop at Donut Dunking. Their sign currently said ‘Donut’ due to a recent rebranding. Personally, I just wanted them to simplify the logo into a big D in Times New Roman font. Wouldn’t that be easier for my little consumer brain to understand? They’re missing out on that potential marketing, and corporate doesn't even know it! That’s what happens when you support big donut, like me...

June went on ahead and ordered her favorite out of season pumpkin spice latte, while Cal and I held back to decide what we both wanted to drink.

“These, La-ttays, how do they taste?”

“Imagine you have dark chocolate, right? Okay… Now take all the sweetness out of that chocolate. What do you get?” I asked.

“Bitterness,” Cal replied.

“Yep. Now make that a drink, then re-add the sweetness and top it off with whip cream.”

“That sounds like a witches brew, of which I feel I shall detest.”

“Yeah?” June spoke up, taking a sip of her drink. “Well, this witch needs her brew. So I’m ordering something first.”

She was in a bad mood. Either it was just so early for her that her latte fix hadn’t kicked in, or it was her time of the month. Whichever it was, it was best not to poke the bear.

Cal pointed at the sign like he was picking one of the drinks, but he was kinda vague about which one he was actually picking, so the barista had to take a guess.

“Sir, do you want the blueberry bellhop swirl?”

“How kind of you to call me sir… I have never been knighted.” Cal lightly elbowed me with flattery. “Can you believe this man? He must truly be interested in our patronage.” Cal slapped down two silver coins from his pocket. “This shall be enough for this blueberry swirl!”

The barista didn’t know what to do with the janky silver, so he handed it back to me and I just gave him paper money. Then I picked my favourite apple cinnamon latte and paid for that too.

June already finished her drink by the time Cal and I sat down to drink. She had her head down over the table like she was drunk and passed out.

“Uh, June?” I shook her shoulders. We were about to find out if it was caffeine or PMS. “You okay?”

Her head slowly lifted and turned to me with a grimace. For a moment, I thought she was going to hurt me… But then, in a sudden shift of the tide, her eyes popped open and she was smiling, happily.

“I’m great now!” she replied. “That drink really hit the spot.”

“Oh, thank God…” I wiped the sweat from my brow, thankful that the caffeine worked on her.

Cal took a sip of his drink as he sat down. That thing he was drinking was tiny compared to his basketball player hands. “Eww… This is disgusting.” he continued to sip at it anyways.”

“Let me try…” I took a sip. “Mmm! That’s good! What are you talking about?”

“Too sweet…” he got back up and went to the register. “Flattering man, may I have a side of mutton with this sweet drink?”

“Sure…” the guy opened up the little fridge and pulled out a leg of lamb. “Here you go.”

“Thank you!” He took the leg and started munching on it. “Much better.” He took another sip of the drink.

“Deeeeesgusting,” June commented, turning pale. “Why did they just have that in the fridge like it was any other item you could order?”

“Better question…” I leaned away from the cold piece of meat Cal was happily devouring. “Why did they just hand it to him frozen?”

Between a bite, Cal turned to me and smiled like a child. “It’s pre-cooked.”

He said that as if it was supposed to dispel all our concerns. But hey, I guess it's true about what they say… If you never ask for a leg of lamb, you’ll never get one. I don’t know who came up with that first or why, but it's an old family saying.

-(*v*)-

As we left Donut, Cal said he had a bad stomach ache. It must have been that blueberry swirl latte not mixing well with pre-cooked mutton. Note to self. Not a good combo!

He powered through it, saying that he wouldn’t be defeated by a stomach ache. He even started punching his gut like he was at war with it, but June and I made sure he stopped doing that pretty quickly.

“You’ll damage those precious abs!” I held his fist back with super strength.

Suddenly, June shouted “Oh no!” in the middle of the parking lot.

“What?” I asked, fearing we were under attack.

“I forgot to change Octo’s water!” she cried. “Crap!”

We rushed back home real quick to find Octo, tied up and shivering in a cold bath. She speedily swapped out the water and warmed him up.

“I thought you’d never come back…” he sniffled. “I thought I was being abandoned again…”

“Again?” I raised a brow. What the heck kinda’ tragic backstory did I give this guy?

“Shh…” June comforted him. “It’s okay… Mama’s here now.”

“I’ve never seen Octo so vulnerable before…” Cal commented, cringing. “This is out of character for him.”

June was acting a little funny too. It reminded me of how my grandma used to act around dogs. Surprisingly, neither of them have ever owned a dog.

“It might be a vitamin D deficiency,” June said. “We’ll have to get him a UV lamp. Auri, mind if we stop at the pet store?”

“We could just have him borrow Gunther’s lamp…” I pointed to my turtle in his enclosure.

“No, let’s get him a new one,” June affirmed. “Gunther needs that one.”

Well, it looked like we were making a stop at the pet store too before fixing my computer. What a day this was turning into already…