Krispy Courier

A few months ago, 31-year-old Paul O’Brien got a notion.

A brilliant notion.

A delicious notion.

Everyone was clamoring for those Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Even O’Brien had made the trek from West L.A. down to La Habra when the company opened its first Southern California shop in January.

Problem was, not everyone could get to La Habra.

So, O’Brien decided, if the working masses could not find their way to Krispy Kreme, he’d bring the much-touted treats to them. Three months ago, a doughnut delivery business was born.

O’Brien, a transplanted Englishman (from Southampton), distributed fliers in several office buildings and soon the phone calls poured in.

(Krispy Kreme disclaimer: “This is not sanctioned by Krispy Kreme, and it’s important to us that our customers have the experience where we control the quality of our product,” said Roger Glickman, president of Great Circle Foods, the exclusive Southern California developer and franchisee of Krispy Kreme Doughnuts. “That’s why we’re not in the delivery business, because we want to keep as close a watch on our doughnuts as possible.”)

We spent a recent morning riding shotgun with O’Brien and several dozen doughnuts. Here’s how it went:

6:30 a.m.: O’Brien leaves his West L.A. home in his Ford Expedition and hops on the San Diego Freeway toward Van Nuys, where Krispy Kreme opened its second store in September.

7 a.m.: We arrive at Krispy Kreme Doughnuts, a sparkling clean (kleen?) store where hundreds of the little round pastries--original glazed, chocolate iced, powdered cake, raspberry filled--are merrily rolling down conveyor belts to their destinies. O’Brien, who charges roughly twice the in-store price, discusses his order with employees, who quickly assemble 17 boxes. He marks them to keep the orders straight.

He doesn’t partake of any doughnuts today--”I’ll have one every couple of weeks,” he says. “It’s rather like working in a chocolate factory. You never want to eat chocolate.” We’ll take his word for it.

7:15 a.m.: O’Brien is back on the 405, heading south this time, battling bumper-to-bumper traffic like every other rat in the race. Except his car smells better.

8:30 a.m.: He drops off four dozen to Creative Domain (a regular client) in Culver City, where an employee meets him outside and hands him a wad of cash, including a hefty tip.

8:55 a.m.: At Sony’s studios in Culver City, O’Brien delivers several boxes, gifts from an ad agency to its clients.

9:20 a.m.: One dozen to Radical Media in Santa Monica, where a receptionist looks at the box wistfully and says, “That’s the last thing we need.”

9:35 a.m.: O’Brien attempts a delivery to Sony’s Santa Monica office but is directed by a security guard to the mail room, where he leaves the Krispy Kremes with a clerk.

9:40 a.m.: Another dozen to Artisan Entertainment in Santa Monica, a gift again from the ad agency. A receptionist who works on a small beading loom while answering phones takes the delivery.

9:50 a.m.: Two dozen to Brentwood Property Appraisal, where regulars Debbie Schneider and Mike Friedman eagerly open a box of original glazed. “Ahhh,” says Friedman as he inhales the intoxicating aroma. “Just like opening a new box of cigars.”

10:30 a.m.: O’Brien delivers a dozen to a condo in West L.A., a get-well gift from a client.

10:45 a.m.: At Coldwell Banker in Beverly Hills, the client who sent the get-well gift takes a dozen herself.

11:15 a.m.: That ad agency is still spreading joy, this time at Paramount Studios in Hollywood.

11:55 a.m.: O’Brien traverses the city on the 101 Freeway to deliver his last box of the day, to a new client, an accounting office in Woodland Hills.

His deliveries finished for the day, O’Brien is off to his other job, mobile car detailing--until tomorrow, when the run for the doughnuts begins all over again.

* O’Brien charges $10 a dozen for original glazed, $12 for all other varieties. Call (310) 892-5952.

* Jeannine Stein can be reached by e-mail at jeannine.stein@latimes.com.