Cherry pickin’

In my previous post, I forgot to mention another funny weekend event — I went to Fred Meyer on Saturday afternoon to get some groceries. I went to the fruit section to pick up some cherries. They had the cherries out in little bags. I grabbed a plastic produce bag and started rifling through the bags of cherries, picking out small handfuls to transfer to my own bag. All of a sudden, this 40-ish man appears at my side and says in a semi-accusatory manner: “What’re you doing?” I was sort of taken aback, but replied: “I’m picking out cherries. They’re for sale by the pound, not by the bag.” Then I pointed to a rotting cherry in one of the bags and said, “See, you have to be careful.” He paused, and said, “Oh.” Then he randomly picked a cherry, popped it in his mouth, said “Mm!” and was gone. A minute later, a lady came up next to me to look over the cherries. She started shooting me these angry glances. I was so tempted to say “Lady! You buy them by the POUND, not by the BAG!” Jaysus!

The story popped into my head a few minutes ago as I was eating some cherries with my lunch. None of them had bruises or holes — who’s laughing NOW, bitches?!


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