Donut Queen

Like everybody else in the world, I adore Peter Pan Donuts on Manhattan Avenue, with its circa-48 classic double-u counter configuration, adorably retro teal uniforms, colorful regulars and excellent sour cream glazed.

I persist in going there with some regularity - today and yesterday, if you must know - even in the face of tremendous hostility. Because, you see, several of the young Polish waitresses are in love with Slim.

They always blushed and giggled when he came in, but the real infatuation began when, after a near-disastrous fight this past summer (the one where one of us thought we were in an open relationship and the other didn't; see if you can guess who thought what) he arranged for me to get free donuts for life from the Peter Pan.

Well, after that, they all thought he was the bees' knees, and I had to listen to the owner tell me that she "hoped I appreciated him" because he "really loves me."

The waitresses, none of whom is more than nineteen, all clearly wonder what he's doing with a bespectacled old bag like me. They all jockey to serve him and his coffee cup never goes empty. I, on the other hand, am ignored - unless someone is sneering at me.

Initially, I was extra-delightful. I routinely tipped 300% and attempted compliments on their visors. When I was stonewalled, I became bitter and my behavior became somewhat unbecoming in one going on 27 - putting on full makeup for a 7 am coffee run, occasionally forcing Slim to make out with me in front of the bakery's display window.

There is one girl in particular who is obviously obsessed with him. She is small and silent and intense, and never talks to anyone. But when Matt comes in she turns beet red, then pale, and a joyful smile spreads across her face. Usually the other girls giggle and push her forward to wait on him.

It's fairly clear that she'll kill me one of these days. I wonder if she will poison a donut and make sure I get it. I keep thinking of the green cake Captain Hook prepares in order to poison the Lost Boys because there's "no one to tell them not to eat/so rich and damp a cake!"