My best friend Barbara and I worked at Dunkin Donuts when we were 15. We were usually really good employees.

The store was right across from a Catholic Church and very busy on Sunday morning, We had to be there at 6 AM. The baker had already been there baking the donuts but they weren't filled with the jelly yet. We had to get everything ready for the "after church rush."

I don't know how they do it now but there was a machine that we filled with jelly and there was nipple on the top. We put the doughnut over the nipple and squirted the jelly into it.

The blueberry jelly came out of these huge cans and it was nice and soft, but the strawberry jelly came out in the shape of the can. We had to mush it up with our hands to get it to be soft enough to go through the nipple.

Some of these donuts needed whipped cream to go on top of them.

Two girls, Besties, 15, lots of donuts, lots of jam that needed mushing and whipped cream. What could possibly go wrong?

When the owner came in to check on how things were going, we were in the middle of a whipped cream fight, donuts were all over the back of the store, strawberry jam was everywhere. We were covered with sugar and whipped cream from head to toe, and then we were out the door.