A few days ago I witnessed (and was nearly caught in the midst of) an interaction between two people that was so obviously counterproductive as to be almost unimaginable.

But I get ahead of myself.

You see, the Dunkin Donuts near my office, despite having truly awful coffee that's always burnt, is usually pretty crowded in the mornings, so they have a two line system where, theoretically, you walk in and pick whatever line seems shorter and once you get to the front of your line you order. And even though inevitably it seems like the other line is moving twice as fast and the moron paying in nickles is always in your line, it also feels like it's half your fault for picking the wrong one and besides you can't very well switch because theres now a whole line behind you.

But, on the fateful Tuesday, there wasn't really much of a line when I arrived so the three counter people were jockeying back and forth between the two lines and I ended up switching sides with the girl next two me and everything was fine and we were good and anyway coffee and donuts were coming to solve any problems that might have been lingering. And then the guy behind me, feeling entitled to go next since he'd arrived before the woman in the adjacent line, began to call his order to the cashier for the other line, only to be interrupted by the woman next to him (probably a regular) who believed that cashier belonged to her. Yelling and cursing ensued. Service stopped. I was thirty seconds later to work than I would have been otherwise because I was clinging to the counter to avoid getting involved.

Now I, of all people, understand that donuts are a serious matter and denying someone their coffee a capital offense, but it seems to me the aromas of powdered sugar and fry grease should engender a feeling of camraderie, a unity born from the knowledge that we're all about to do something terrible to our bodies because it feels good for a few seconds. The feeling of friendship I imagine bubbles up just before you're huffing a can of WD40 with the kid from down the street.

Moral of the story: I need to eat fewer donuts.