When I think of the spelling of those magical round fried dough like creations with a hole in the middle, I don’t think of “doughnuts.” Instead, I think of “donuts,” which according to Merriam Webster, is the “less common spelling” of the term.

While I understand that “doughnuts” may be the “more correct” spelling — because after all “doughnuts” are made of “dough” — I just have trouble accepting the fact that “doughnut” is the “more common spelling.”

For all the “doughnut” spelling purists, maybe I can be forgiven for not understanding the language. I was born in the late 1970’s, so the only “doughnut” shop I knew about growing up was ultimately Dunkin’ Donuts.

And then later, in New York, I remember places like Alpha Donut, D-Lite Donuts, and of course, the one and only, the creator of the topnotch triple threat Plain-Powder-Cinnamon Softee Donuts, Entenmann’s Donuts. There was also this place right off Queensboro Plaza subway station, and I am convinced their name had Donut in it.

This is far from any scientific study, but I’ve noticed that many of the nouveau places — you know, the kind where everything is handcrafted, artisanal, and most importantly, grossly overpriced — generally use the Doughnut spelling. See Doughnut Plant.

I prefer “Donut” shops, as opposed to “Doughnut” shops. I don’t want the menu printed in handwritten colored chalk. I don’t want my coffee in a big ceramic mug with a foam heart on top. I don’t want 67 different varieties of donuts to choose from. I don’t want cozy sofas to sit on, or I Heart Radio playing in the background. I don’t want a place that accepts credit cards. I don’t want a cloth napkin served with my donuts.  And I definitely don’t want my donut served on a plate.

I EAT MY DONUTS IN A NONDESCRIPT BROWN PAPER BAG WHILE I’M WALKING AND USE MY SLEEVE AS A NAPKIN.

Keep your damn Doughnuts, you Doughnut People.