Lost and Lonely Leftovers

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My longtime blogfriend caropal lives in Chicago and experiences a lot of the same train and bus trauma I do every day living in NYC.  So it’s not surprising that her world was shattered–shattered, I tell you–when she came upon this doughnut dumped in a corner of the el.  (Or do you guys say “L”?  I don’t know how Chicago trains work.)

I like the idea that some suit was riding into work with his breakfast, couldn’t prolong his gratification anymore, and had to free his O of dough from its bag right at the door to the train.  At that precise moment, the conductor obviously hit the brakes for a track-crossing goat (because while I don’t know much about Chicago transit, I know a lot about their wandering native goat herds), the doughnut was dropped, and the suit threw his bag down in frustration.

Pity.

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