We had an adult doughnut shop around 1989.
Located on the northeast corner of I-25 and Highway 14, it survived only a few months.
“Sheriff Jim Black was gunning for the owner of that place from the day it opened,” says my friend whose name I won’t say because he was a regular there (and somehow he remains my friend anyway).
“And the local Bible thumpers hated it too,” he says.
But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t popular. Truckers from all over the country packed the parking lot every night. The local men stopped by after work. Even Geraldo came out and did a story.
They came out to pay $2.25 for ordinary cups of coffee served by topless women.
The women weren’t as comely as the one on the coffee mug. Rather they were a little more “gravitationally challenged” than your average college girls, and Sheriff Jim Black felt sure they were selling more than coffee, I’m told.
“So how were the doughnuts?” I asked my friend, the regular.
“I don’t remember,” he says.
But he does remember the day the sheriff finally busted the owner on a drug charge. “I called my brother and said, ‘guess what? Sheriff Jim Black closed Debbie duz Donuts today’.”
“That sonofabitch,” he replied.