A Morning at the Dairy

It's not what you think. I didn't spend the morning at a dairy farm. I stopped by the local dairy in town, in the middle of a neighborhood. Other than the sign on the outside of the building which reads "Washtenaw Dairy", you would never think it was a dairy. Then again, what does it need, a cow, to tell you that?

Stein and I have been there for ice cream before and it's really yummy. The place is packed on summer evenings. In fact, in real estate ads, the houses that are listed nearby usually mention something about being close to the dairy. It's a walking destination for anyone within a mile radius. The rest of us just have to drive there.

Oh, and they have donuts. Donuts that I have smelled in the mornings when I'm running (oh yeah, running. I must get back to that soon). Donuts that are kind of on the small side, but oh so yummy. They're cake donuts, and they have a crispy outside. They frost them with chocolate, or vanilla, or sprinkles, or coconut.

I have never bought donuts there before, I have only been on the receiving end at offices where I've worked or at school. Today when we were having a breakfast in honor of a recently married teacher, I decided donuts would be best. It was about 7:30 when I went. As soon as I opened the door, the people at the 5 tables there turned their heads. They gave me a once-over look and then went back to their conversations. I was clearly not a local in the local hangout. There was one large table with 10 men, drinking coffee and gossiping. I'm sure I became part of their conversation too. I like to think I was the "mysterious girl". When I placed my order for 2 dozen donuts, the woman who helped me went to the back. That gave me time to look around at the other people there. More locals. I overheard conversations about people going up north, golf outings, and slot machines. (Trips up north can typically entail golfing and playing slot machines). Aside from the party of 10 men (wearing lots of U-M gear, by the way), there were some couples, a small group of retired friends, and the owners (father and son?) who easily drifted among the tables.

Not having been there before in the morning, I was really surprised by what I found there. I didn't think people hung out there, other than at night while finishing their ice cream cones. I mentioned something about this to another teacher this morning, and she finished my sentence. "You mean all the old men drinking coffee and talking?" she affirmed. Yep, that was it, I thought.

Who knew that the dairy in the middle of the neighborhood would be such a popular hangout? Maybe I need to go there more often. But then again, I wouldn't remain the mysterious girl.