Evokin’ Donuts
I’m in the kitchen, listening to the Afghan Whigs’ ‘Brother Woodrow/Closing Prayer’ on repeat, reading a book about spices when Rosario Dawson comes home. I’m on a particularly riveting chapter about sumac. Through the nearest window I can see the vineyard and the winding river that Shia LaBeouf is always asking me to go “tubing” down, ever since he bought that floating cooler that holds 72 bottles of beer with a separate compartment for sandwiches. We have tentative plans to do that on Tuesday but we’re waiting to hear back from Salma Hayek and Zoe Saldana. I wiggle my fingers at the stereo and through a small ocean of applause Fats Gonder informs the crowd that it’s star time. Rosario loves James Brown’s Live At The Apollo and I often put it on just before she enters the house because I like watching her eyes light up and there’s the very real possibility she’ll do the mashed potato halfway across the room before kissing me, which is fun to watch. Today, however, it takes her longer than usual to make her way into the kitchen and she has a somewhat puzzled look of preoccupation on her beautiful face. She doesn’t seem to notice that ‘Lost Someone’ is beginning and she loves ‘Lost Someone.’
She fixes me with her gaze, skipping the kissing entirely, and inquires, “Honey, what did you do to the living room?”
“Which one?”
“The main living room in the middle of our gigantic mansion that used to be tastefully decorated in varying shades of chocolate and ecru with an eye toward mid-century furniture, in which we regularly entertain a wide array of friends and guests, which now appears to be a fully-staffed Dunkin Donuts as evidenced by this medium coffee I’m holding.”
“Oh yeah. I made it a Dunkin Donuts yesterday. I forgot to tell you. America runs on Dunkin Donuts.”
“Justin, this is Heaven. It is almost the exact opposite of America. It’s a rampantly socialist utopia where human decency and love are the primary motivating factors in 90% of its inhabitants’ behavior and economic disparity and ignorance don’t exist.”
“Heaven runs on Dunkin Donuts.”
“Heaven does not run on Dunkin Donuts.”
“I run on Dunkin Donuts.”
“Oh my God I’m going to strangle you.”
“YOU CAN’T DO THAT,” God’s voice booms from everywhere and nowhere simultaneously, “IT IS AGAINST THE RULES.”
Rosario addresses the air, “Not you, God. Justin. I am going to strangle Justin.”
“OH, OKAY. HAVE FUN.”
“How is strangling me not against the rules?”
“Fix the living room.”
“But what about the staff? They’re really good. The coffee’s always fresh and they make the best Munchkins in West Heaven. It’s a really popular Dunkin Donuts. I was thinking about picking up a couple of shifts just to meet people.”
“What do you mean it’s ‘popular’?”
“Oh, you didn’t notice? Yeah, I guess you can’t see from the driveway but it’s also a drive through. I made a road through the middle of the house. Wait. What are you doing? Hey, don’t actually choke me. Agh! Ghhhk! Ahck.”
“Shhhh. It’s better this way.”
