Afer the match...

I went to see the football today. As usual, Sheffield Wednesday made complete fools of themselves in the first half, letting in two goals from the rubbish Torquay United. And, as usual, they proved what they can do in the second half. Unfortunatly, they'd already given too much away, because all we managed was to equalise, and to leave Hillsborough with one point. Anyway, all this is irrelevant, I was just setting the scene, and my emotions got the better of me.

As is often the case, on my way back to Leeds after the game, I pulled off the motorway at junction 35A, and went to the McDonald's on the roundabout up the road. I decided to treat myself to a donut for dessert. Now, I worked at the greasy burger restaurant for a good year and a half in my school days, and I used to love a good donut. But do you know what This one was rubbish. I couldn't figure it out. It was not old and dry, the chocolate was not melted off on one side, there were no signs of tampering. It was exactly the same as any other donut I have ever eaten from McDonald's. Then I realised what was different. When I used to eat these sweet treats from the greasy clown's sweatshop, I had never made a visit to Canada. I had certainly never sampled the delights of Krispy Kreme's mouthwatering snacks. And so, it seems, life will never be the same again. Once you've eaten a Krispy Kreme donut; once you've ravenously devoured one of those warm, sticky, melt-in-the-mouth pieces of sugary heaven straight off the production line, there's no going back. No donut will ever taste as good. Not McDonald's chocolate donuts. Not Tim Horton's Canadian maple donuts. Not even Gregg's custard donuts.

I guess it's like the band, James, said in their song, Sit Down:
'If I hadn't seen such riches, I could live with being poor.'