Go to Norman for Donuts
I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a homebody. I am quite content without the thrill of seeing the best sights of the world, conquering the tallest mountains, or breaking the next Guinness world record. Give me a book, a warm blanket, and a tranquil alcove, and I’ll be content for the next several hours–if not days. It’s easy–too easy–to fall into the trap of doing what’s most comfortable, to avoid stepping out of the familiarity of your fenced-in habitat and hide from the unknown.
A couple weeks ago, I went to Prayer for the Nations, completely oblivious to what would unfold. After we had finished praying and conversation had erupted, I slipped out and was headed back to Agee with a couple of friends. Before we had gone far, an upperclassmen stopped us and insisted that we go to Norman with them for donuts. (“Not just any donuts–Hurts Donuts,” he said.) Though I appreciated that he would think of us, a few freshmen, I was, like any good homebody, more interested in the comfort of a good book in my room. Eventually, I caved when the united front between my friends and I crumbled.
Having grown up in Asia, I am, by no means, a connoisseur of the delicious fried ring we affectionately call the “donut.” Like any food, there are good places to go, and there are bad places to go. Hurts Donuts is a good place to go, a conclusion I drew shortly after arriving in the door of the shop that was packed late in the night. My conclusion was later proved exceedingly accurate when I sunk my teeth into the tender chocolate, mint, and crushed Oreo coating of one of their donuts. (Yes, they exist. Please refer to Exhibit A.) With a donut shop like that in Norman, it’s a wonder that the police officers there are not all obese.
With me in the donut shop were many people I hadn’t had the chance to get to know well. While I crammed my mouth with those great donuts, I laughed and joked with these new friends. The donuts were delicious, but sweeter still were the friendships I was building. I’m convinced that if food were a superhero, it’s power would be to bring people together, especially hungry college students.
Although every fiber of the homebody within me rebelled against the idea of leaving the company of a good book for donuts in Norman, I’m glad that I stepped out. That night was a fun time of getting to know people in a different light and laugh at witty, late-night jokes, which tend to not be witty at all. It was one of those nights when you bond over food and the fact that all of you need a break from Bison Hill for a couple of hours. More important than bonding, that night the beauty of perfectly fried dough safely guarded by a chocolate and mint shell shattered all conceptions I had about donuts.
If, like me, you are a homebody, step out and try something new. If, unlike me, you are not a homebody, drag your homebody friends tooth-and-nail out of the dorms for donuts. Have fun and make memories. Most importantly, eat some good donuts together and let food use its superpower.