caravan of love...

i walk into the kitchen at work today and goddammit that there's a box of krispy kremes in there on the table... as i walked past them to get my coffee i faintly heard them cat-call whistle at me (fucking rude doughnuts!!), and so i had to spy them using my peripheral vision (mostly to make sure they didn't try any mind tricks on me)... the tension was pretty thick -- suffocatingly thick -- in that small kitchen with just me and the kk, and i think i even felt the temperature rise a few degrees as i stood at the counter with my back to the kk to dress my coffee... as my coffee and i turned to make a b-line for the door to quickly get out of there it felt as if the kk and i were in a showdown (*insert whistle and drum sounds typical of westerns*), a battle of wills, a test of my resolve... alas, i walked out of the kitchen and no kk left with me.... did i exercise willpower? was this a testament to my dedication? meh... i would like to think so but i have to admit that the only thing saving me was that the seal on the box had not yet been broken. ergo, hollow victory.