THE CRULLERS

(With apologies to Ernest Hemingway)

By Henry Dane

The door of Dunkin’ opened and two cops came in. They sat down at the counter.
“How youse doin’?” Gina asked them.
“I don’t know,” one of the cops said. “How we doin’, Al?”
“I don’t know,” said Al. “I don’t know how we’re doin’.”
Outside it was getting light. The street lamp went off outside the window. The two
cops at the counter read their Boston Heralds. From the other end of the counter Nicky
Abruzzi watched them. He was the owner and operator.
“I’ll have a cruller and a regular coffee,” the first cop said.
“We don’t make crullers.”
“What kinda frikkin’ donut shop is this?”
“It’s the kinda frikkin’ donut shop that don’t make crullers for years,” she explained.
“Now you only get crullers at small donut shops.”
“Oh, to hell with the crullers,” the first cop said. “What else have you got?”

“I can give you any kind of donut,” Gia said. “You can have plain glazed, chocolate
glazed, Boston kreme, or jelly.”
“Give me a French twist.”
“That’s a cruller.”
“Everything we wants a cruller, eh? That’s the way you work it.”
“I can give you plain glazed, chocolate glazed, Boston–”
“Pissa. I’ll take the plain glazed,” the cop called Al said. He wore a cop’s hat with a
visor and a blue uniform buttoned across the chest. His face was big and black and he had
wide lips.
“Give me a Boston kreme,” said the other cop. He was about the same size as Al.
Their faces were different, but they were dressed like twins. Both wore uniforms too tight
for them. They sat leaning forward, their elbows on the counter.
Gia put the two donuts, one plain glazed, the other Boston kreme, on the counter.
“Which is yours,” she asked Al.
“Don’t you remember?”
“You wanted a cruller.”
“Come on, Al,” the second cop said.
The two of them went out the door. Gia watched them, through the window. In their
tight uniforms and billed hats they looked like a pair of chauffeurs. Gia went back
through the swinging door into the kitchen to check on Nicky.
“I’m going to buy a little, independent donut shop so I can make crullers again,”
Nicky said.
“Sweet,” said Gia. “That’s a wicked awesome thing to do.”

“I can’t stand to think about them cops leaving because they couldn’t get crullers. It’s
too damned awful.”
“Well,” said Gia, “they coulda had muffins.”