Fruits

For some reason, I have to write about fruit today. Maybe because I keep thinking of the tangerine a group of us put in an art supply drawer during elementary school to let rot. It must have been in there a couple months, at least. Sometimes we’d check on its progress and exclaim our revulsion, but quietly, so nobody would notice and remove the moldy orb.

I tried durian around twenty years ago while visiting my friend Ya in Thailand. He kept the flesh wrapped inside tin foil in the fridge to prevent its stench from filling the humid kitchen. Honestly, I don’t even remember what it tasted like, so maybe it’s not as grotesque as people say.

Earlier this year I spent ten dollars on an enormous jackfruit to give as a birthday gift to my friend Ady. I was carrying it across the store parking lot when a woman called out from about 50 feet away, “What are you gonna do with that furry thing?” I started laughing and explained it was a birthday present for someone, which made her laugh, too.

My old coworker, Christian, used to call rollerblades “fruit boots.”

Have you ever seen the Harajuku street fashion magazine Fruits? It is awesome.

 

 

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