J&J Gourmet Grocery & Candy

I have never in my life felt stupider buying a donut.
I only knew this crusty little deli even had donuts in the first place because I stumbled by when I got off on the wrong stop on the G train at 11 p.m. one night. Which was already dumb enough.
Then, the following morning, I wrote up, pulled on my track pants and jogged up through Greenpoint, passing about fifteen delicious bakeries, including Peter Pan (home of the best old-​school donuts in NYC) along the way. Just to try the donuts at a bodega. Again, not a bright move.
When I sauntered into the deli, I knew immediately what I would be getting: Run of the mill cart donuts, the very same ones that I’d seen mouldering on the counter the night before. Nonetheless, I pulled a sweaty dollar out of my pocket and asked for a vanilla frosted. At which point the dude, who I suspect had been behind the counter even longer than his donuts had, told me it would be a buck fifty.
In other words, I ran a few miles out of my way and passed up a zillion wonderful bakeries to pay a 50% premium on a donut which I could have picked up on any streetcorner in the five boroughs.
For the record, it tasted every bit as dumb as I felt.