The Five People You Meet In Line For Cronuts

"I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and cronut lines." - Maya Angelou

The Cronut, in case you've been in a diabetic coma for the past month, is the latest in fad foodie fare. It is only available in its most pure, copyrighted state at Dominique Ansel Bakery in Soho.

Each cronut takes three days to make, and only 200 are sold each morning at the bakery. Reports suggest the line outside the doors begins around 5:30am.

While you'd think physically standing in line for 3+ hours would prove to be the more difficult challenge, the real test is in dealing with the other lunatics who also woke up before God.

These are the people I encountered during my first cronut pilgrimage.

The Girl Who Wants To Be Instant BFFs

Via Google Image Search

Things that are tolerable at 6:14am without coffee: none. None of the things.

Least of all, overly chatty young girls who think because I am a young girl, we have been predestined to braid each other's hair.

No, don't tell me your name because I will never use it. No, don't suggest if you're in my neighborhood we'll meet up. I just stood behind you.

We are not friends. We will not be. It's too goddamn early for this shit.

The Cronut Superfan

Via coolculinaria.com

Why is this your eighth time waiting in line for this? How can you be a repeat consumer of this elegant pastry when you clearly have no job?

Find a new hobby. "Waiting in line for cronuts" is not a 'thing' like "doing crosswords" or "playing piano". It's just sad.

The Surly Media Industry Gofer

Via dominiqueansel.com

Talk and radio show hosts alike sure do enjoy their cronuts - especially since they did not have to stand around all morning waiting to get them. Low-class employees are sent in their place to retrieve the precious merchandise and ferry it to the studios.

While in line waiting, you may hear the Surly Media Industry Gofer say such joyful tidbits as:

"I'm just going to sell these g*****n idiot donuts to the first guy in skinny jeans who walks past me."

and

"I hope I get in a car wreck on the way back to Jersey so the only thing those f***ers can report on is my death"

Ah, show biz. Nothing else like quite it.

Guys In The Doghouse

Via main.stylelist.com

Three different men bonded over being in trouble with their girlfriends while waiting in line.

This sad frat trio felt validated in the plan to Win Her Back via the elusive cronut, and the remaining hour and a half of line time was spent discussing how women love food.

Noble men, one and all. Their gals sure are lucky (they didn't have to stand in line listening to this shit.)

Chef Dominique Ansel, in the flesh

Via crainsnewyork.com

The man, the myth, the namesake of the bakery - Dominique Ansel, a sweet prince of a Frenchman, opens the doors of his establishment each morning himself.

His eyes the smoothest caramel, a scent of butter and chocolate his cologne, his accented voice saying "please stop petting me" like the purr of the finest electric mixer.

You walk past his welcoming smile into a brightly lit, white room where wishes turn into macarons, and the best of dreams, well, they turn into cronuts.