On my way back from Monday’s trip to Whole Foods (where I almost punched someone in the throat), I was in my car thinking about my highly inflated purchases, and wondering how much of my food’s airfare I had paid for.
My grapes were imported from from Chile, my oranges from South Africa, and my avocados from Argentina.
Then it dawned on me, my fruit is worldlier than I am! So, I thought we could kill some time (while stuck in traffic) by discussing travel, good hotels, and sightseeing.
The grapes were extremely friendly. Well, they were seedless, so what do you expect? They went on to warn me about their country.
“Ay dios mio, jou don want to go to Chile. It may mean cold en Ingles, but esta muy caliente . Also, jou should remember to wash us bueno. We may be organic, but jou have no idea how much bug poop jour eating.”
“Wow that was overly informational, Grapes. I’m glad we spoke.”
The oranges were not so pleasant. One cantankerous orange spoke from my biodegradable sack (made of recycled hemp or some such product) and said, “You call yourself a conservationist!?”
“What do you mean, of course I am. I go to Whole Foods and buy overpriced organic foods and bring them home in paper bags and reusable sacks.”
“You live in Florida freakin’ Florida … and you just bought oranges from South Africa! How do you sleep at night?”
“Well, I will have you know, whenever I see an empty plastic bottle I throw it in my SUV and drive it to a collection site, even if that site is miles out of the way. You can’t say I don’t do my share.”
“Yeah? And I bet you leave your car running while you drop it off.”
“Of course I do, it’s super hot in Florida.”
I know, not so creative, but it’s hard to think of a good comeback to fruit.
“It appears the history of unrest in your country has caused you to become bitter. In addition, I don’t appreciate your tone, Orange. Sheesh, I was just trying to make polite conversation. That is the last time I talk to produce!”
I closed the bag and blasted the AC, to drown out his yelling, but my conscience felt a weird twinge. I couldn’t put my finger on it though, maybe tonight, when I meditate to the sound of running water (that sound is so calming), I’ll see if I can figure it out.
PS I never figured out what that twinge was about, but I did get revenge on that annoying and overly insightful orange. First, I sliced him in half, then I squeezed him to a pulp. Next, I peeled off his skin and ate his carcass. I made his friends watch, and then set them free, so they could send a message to other sour citrus. (What, it worked for Keyser Söze.)
PPS I said that would be the last time I talked to produce, but I lied.
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Be Awesomer, Don’t let me Preach about Being Green, When I Tool Around in My SUV