Donut Trigger

I was triggered earlier...

Triggered! One Summer in college, I worked at a factory that made the fillings for donuts (Yes, there's a cheap joke in there.) There were giant bubbling caldrons, and half of the day I stood with a hundred pound bag of sugar on my shoulder, slowly pouring into the vat. The permanently angry lifer would yell at me and call me made up curse words, if I got tired and poured the sugar too slowly or too quickly he would get really loud. Each day, the mean old fat dude would call me names and threaten to toss me into the boiling nauseating vat. Like clockwork, the bell would sound for lunch, which was also my reprieve.

The afternoons were spent downstairs, where a pipeline pumped the sugary ooze into plastic bags. I had to grab the hot bags as the machine sealed them, (like an old Lucy episode) and fill boxes for shipment. We weren't given gloves, and every opportunity was taken to remind us of how much they hated college boys. I still hate donuts. 🤓