Welcome to Do I donut? Every Thursday morning I clean an office building. They always have a box of donuts for the staff. This is where I ask myself: “Do I risk taking a donut?”
May 21st:
I do donut. Took a powdered sugar cake donut,,,,, let’s see how this plays out.
May 14th:
I do donut. Lots donuts left over in the office today. Took half of a cinnamon twist long john. Had a long ass work day after, and spilled hella donut dust in my car. I’m unsure if the donuts are responsible…
May 7th:
Bro I might eat donut today, will update
——-
Update: Dude. A lot has happened.
Only 1 person in the office today. Woah. Donut box in the kitchen with one donut left. WOAH. (Coconut donut.) I’m observing this, then another worker arrives through kitchen entrance. Acting natural (cleaning). I’ve come to the conclusion that this must be Wednesdays donut box. Freaking out a bit, this is the unwanted donut. Taking out the trash, what’s in there ? Coconut donut from last week. Fuck yes. In the kitchen is also a pallet of sodas labeled: “EXPIRED”. Okay. I ask one worker what they want me to do with this. She goes “I don’t know, I guess throw it away? Does soda really expire? I honestly think no one will really care or notice.”
Negligence. Kitchen negligence. DONUT negligence. I’m grabbing the donut. Sandwich bag, donut in the bag, donut bag in the work bag. Major score.
Doesn’t end there. This next part is mainly conspiracy theory.
I take a bite, don’t eat more than that. (I ate a fuck ton of loose chocolate earlier.) Coconut donut lowkey sucks, who really wants coconut on their donut? Something about begging something about choosing. On my way to the next house. I spot two different three legged dogs on a walk (crazy omen.)
Pull up. Mansion in Shaw area. First time in, deep clean. I come to door, man answers door. Hello. Man is in his 40’s, disheveled gamer archetype. Musty odor. “Yeah my main focus area is the floors, we had a mice problem over the winter.” Pan down to dirt, trash, hay?, and mouse shit on the living room floor. “I see.”
“This is the bathroom.” Shit on the toilet seat. Mouse traps in the corner. Okay.
“This is the kitchen, I need the closets cleaned.” Opens the kitchen closet, mouse shit all over. Ummmmm.
“This is my room, I’ll be back here if you need me.” He has what my gf would call ‘chronic boy bed.’ Chronic man room. Sun room that has been converted into gamer-streamer set up. Trash all over. Right, right.
I go upstairs alone. Kids room same deal, maga stuff all over. Right, right.
I start in the kids bathroom. Mouse poop in the shower. I’m messaging the office. They ask me to send pics. I send pics. They tell me to get tf out of there. I’m scared. I go downstairs. Guy is taking into a mic saying “what’s up [insert man’s name] ! Yeah, I was just looking into *rattling off conspiracy nonsense*”….. I sneak out the front door.
Now I’m wondering if these things are related. I’m open to input. The day I take a donut is also the day I get mouse shit weird guy??? Idk bro, maybe this isn’t worth it *broken head emoji*
April 30th:
I don’t donut. I had a psychiatrist appointment this morning, so they gave the office to a different cleaner for today. I ate a donut during my appointment. Late night 99¢ old fashion & blueberry quiktrip donut.
April 23rd:
I don’t donut. Just two donuts left. Who wants coconut?
April 16th:
I don’t donut. So many people in the office. What if they want a donut, and come in and see lack of donut unproportionate to the amount of office workers? No one eats that damn chocolate sprinkle…
April 9th:
I don’t donut. They got a maple bacon donut today. Fuck I want that donut.