"Hello?" Matty stuck his head out the window and leaned closer to the intercom. "Anybody home in there?"
A banged-up yellow two door was parked diagonally in the lot and the sign was lit up—well, the second 'D' in 'Drippin' Donuts' was flickering.
"What the hell." He glanced at the dashboard: 7:44 a.m.
Fantastic… Sixteen minutes to get to class. His hand hovered over the horn. Piece of cake… thirty-five minute drive at a hundred miles per hour.
"Welcomoodripdonuts," a garbled voice shot out of the speaker; "cantakeordplease?"
Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? Matty ran a palm over his face, peering between two fingers at the menu. It's a good thing they have registers to count the change for them.