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Thursday, February 10, 2005

Honey-Glazed Kryptonite

During the last corplan, at one point, the facilitator, her smile a perpetual facial landmark, think the Joker, minus the genocidal urge and the slim physique that's to die for, asked us to mill around and tell each other's secret passion. Rendering "secret" rather moot, doesn't it? Anyway, with the company chairman hovering just within earshot, we all perfunctorily did as told, unloading secret passions with meta-human effort. I told all the profusely perspiring, vulnerable souls unfortunate enough to cross my path of unburdening my best kept secret.

And that is, I love donuts.

Grateful to hear a secret passion that's wholesome, maybe for the first time in their lives, and with a sigh of relief drawn from anywhere but the lungs, they moved on to the next shrinking violet without having told me theirs. Comfortable with this naturally-evolved symbiotic arrangement - I'll tell you my secret, nevermind yours - I went around with the renewed vigor of a man losing his marbles.

I love donuts. I must've been a cop in my previous life.



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