The Agency had a big party last night to celebrate winning An Important Award (and rightfully so - it was a radio campaign for a pro-bono client that won the top award in a competition that had never given the award to a PSA before. It really was a big deal. I'm really not being an ass by capitalizing An Important Award).
As these things tend to go with this group, most people who went to the party are in the hurt box this morning. The organizer showed up a little while ago with 5 dozen assorted Top Pot donuts as a way to help ease the rough edges (and oh are there rough edges everywhere).
Normally, as I've pointed out before, the arrival of food in our kitchen and my coworkers' response often reminds me of a pack of starving hyenas falling on a wounded wildebeest on the Serengeti. After this morning's display, I need a new analogy.
Good Christ. 2 dozen were gone in minutes. Minutes.
Maybe piranha cleaning a cow's carcass down to the bone. Or, swarming South American army ants cutting a swath through an unsuspecting village. Or I can go with accuracy - a group of seriously hungover office workers who are desperate for sugar and grease, and haven't made the trek over to McDonalds yet. Yeah, that works.
To make things worse, I was very hungry myself this morning. The smell of all that sugar, grease and quiet desperation was hard to resist.
I do love a good aftermath shot. By the end of the day, there were 4 or 5 donuts left, out of 60.
Mid-afternoon, these showed up. That's right, the leftover Cupcake Royale cupcakes from last night's party. There were close to 30. I almost gained a pound by accidentally breathing near the cloud of sugar haze hovering over the kitchen table. Between the donuts and cupcakes, the aroma was powerful enough that I could smell it back at my desk.
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