A group of wise old, English men once said, "You can’t always get what you want". I must say that truer words have never been spoken. It’s our family habit, nay – our heritage to experience the wonder of Krispy Kreme whenever we are within 100 miles.

A few years ago we were staying at the Hyatt at DFW airport. We were there for a piano convention. Yes, a piano convention. No, really. Hey, my Sister’s a piano teacher. As thrilling as that was for me, I managed to pull myself and the family away long enough to take in a Rangers game. Of course, my plan was to have a great night of baseball topped by none-other than a Krispy Kreme donut or two.

If you’ve never had a hot Krispy Kreme donut, you just don’t know – you don’t have any idea how good they are. And I can’t tell you. It is the closest thing to heaven on earth. It’s like the book of Revelation where the Lord is explaining the majesty of Heaven in terms that we can understand, but it just doesn’t make sense to us because we just can’t fathom the splendor. Yes, that is my dilemma of explaining what a hot fresh Krispy Kreme donut is like. If John would have had a Krispy Kreme donut, he would have written it down in the Book.

I had it all planned out, timed to the minute. I called ahead to make sure that they were going to be open after the game. I spoke to a man with a Middle Eastern accent and he assured me that they would be open until 11:00. All during the game I was thinking about those little hot pieces of Heaven that melt in your mouth.

I don’t remember if the Rangers won… probably not, but when you are a Rangers fan, it’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how you get donuts after the game. So, after the game we loaded up and set off for the donut shop. It took us a while to get through the traffic, but we were going to make it just in time. It’s actually quite a distance from Arlington to Grapevine. My wife, whom I love, (she reads these) kept saying, "we’re not going to make it." She also said things like, "let’s just go back to the hotel," and "we’re tired and we want to go to bed." "NO," I said sweetly, "we are going to get donuts!"

Finally, I could see that neon sign. We had arrived. The promised land. As I drove up, at 10:58 p.m. with two minutes to spare, I could see the lights in the store and people inside. The magic machine was running, the one that makes the donuts. We parked, and with smiles my wife and daughters and I jumped out of the car and danced. We danced the dance of donut. We danced up to the door and pulled. Apparently, the door was stuck because it would not open. "Oh well, we’ll just go to another door," I said. Oddly, that door was stuck too.

My loving wife said, "They’re closed." That couldn’t be right. The man with the Middle Eastern accent assured me that they would be open. "Oh well," I said, "we’ll just drive through!" So we drove up to the little speaker where you place your order, but apparently it was broken because no one asked me what we wanted. Once again, my perfect wife said, "They’re closed!"

"They can’t be closed," I said. I see people in there… and they have donuts! So I drove up to the window. I could see the people, but they wouldn’t look at me. Why wouldn’t they look at me? So I drove around the building again, hoping to get their attention, but still nothing. I started to wonder about the service here. I knocked on the window. No response. So, I knocked again. My patient and beautiful wife told me to leave because she was afraid they were going to call the police. But, they had donuts in there!

Finally, someone came to the window, and through the glass, in a Middle Eastern accent said, "WE ARE CLOSED!" I motioned for him to open the window. Once again, in a Middle Eastern accent, as if I didn’t hear him the first time, he said, "WE ARE CLOSED!"

I thought that he needed to understand my situation, so I explained that I had spoken to someone who had assured me that they would be open until 11:00 and it was, in fact, NOT 11:00 when I first tried to get inside and started circling the store. I explained that I had come from a distant land and had traveled many miles to taste the donut. I told him that I knew that he had donuts in there because I could see them. Finally, I told him that I had CHILDREN in the car!

I believe that he understood, because he said that the best he could do was to GIVE me 6 donuts. I told him that I would be happy to pay for them, but he said that his register was closed, and that I should just take them and leave. So, I got my donuts, not exactly the way I wanted.

Sometimes real estate is like that. You have something in mind and no matter how much you want it, you just can’t have it. I’ve had people look for years for that "special deal" and as they drive around in circles, the prices continue to go up. It’s best to just accept reality. You’ll be happier in the long run. It’s best to see the market for what it is and make your best deal on a house that meets your needs. As the song goes, "you can’t always get what you want, but if you try, sometimes, you get what you need!"

Steve Stovall