...Ruhena
I must admit, I don’t eat enough fruits. I was so spoilt as a child For whatever reason, I dislike any fruit with seeds in it. I found that nothing can be more disappointing than sinking your teeth into a big slice of juicy watermelon and crunching into awful-tasting seeds!
I know it may sound a bit sad or ridiculous, but it’s always been like that for me. I just dislike any fruits with seeds! If I can be bothered, I would actually take the time to de-seed apples, grapes, watermelons, olives, etc. before eating them. Otherwise I would just go for bananas. No seeds there. Don’t get me started with mangosteen or duku langsat. I just can’t be bothered. I’m completely appalled by oranges or any kind of citrus fruits. There’s a history to this, but I shall leave that for another blog entry.
However, I do love the durian fruit. Yes it has seeds, but you can’t really bite into one by accident. The seeds are huge for God’s sake! Eating a durian is much like eating Oreos; it’s a form of art.
I have been spoiling myself with seedless grapes this past few weeks. It kind of caught on during last Ramadhan and I have been stocking my fridge up with them ever since.
Tonight the local supermarket was unusually packed with customers doing their last minute shopping before Crimbo. There’s a good reason why I do my grocery shopping in the evenings and that is to avoid crowds and long queues at the cashier counter. Unfortunately, last night wasn’t one of those nights. It was to be expected anyway; Crimbo is only three days away.
In any case, my fridge was beginning to have an echo and desperately needed to be filled up. Anyway, I’m not going to bother with details so let’s skip to the interesting part.
My arm was beginning to feel sore from lifting the rather full handbasket around the store, so I decided it was time to head to the cashier counter. One just happened to have a single customer so I joined the queue and began to organise my shopping onto the conveyor belt. At this point, I realised the cashier was a female. She must have been in her early twenties; probably still studying, hardly any make-up on; just a hint of lip gloss, frizzy hair tied to the back, very fair skin and complexion; not even a single scar in sight, of mixed origin; probably English-Asian and a subtle yet extremely bright diamond stud on her nose. My eyes seemed to be fixated on it for some bizarre reason.
“Whoahhhh….”, I said in my head.
Soon the customer ahead of me had gone off and the female cashier was now attending to my shopping. Restraining myself from showing any form of testosterone-overflow excitement, I calmly head to the other end and started putting my stuff into plastic bags. From here onwards, I shall refer to yours truly as Mr. Cool.
“Hi!”, she greeted with a cheeky smile. Inside, Mr. Cool was clapping his hands like a circus seal begging for a fish meal. Outside, Mr. Cool was cool as ice.
“Hello”, said Mr. Cool and smiled back, as he continued putting his goods into the bags.
She continued on scanning until she got hold of the grapes, whereupon she started squeezing them like they were bubble-wrap and said, “That’s an excellent choice of grapes there!”
“Huh?”, Mr. Cool was caught off guard.
“These grapes look delicious! They’re all hard and firm! I would buy them off you!”, she continued as she handed them over.
The gentleman customer behind began to have a funny look on his face.
Mr. Cool didn’t say a word. He just looked at the cashier, smiled, took the grapes from her hand and put them into the bag. Mr. Cool couldn’t think straight at that moment because he was still in shock from what the cashier said earlier. She had complimented on his choice of grapes and he felt overwhelmingly flattered, not to mention a bit embarrassed; it was like a lingering sexual innuendo.
Suddenly, Mr. Cool had a thought. He took the grapes back out, snapped a small branch off and handed it over to the cashier,
“Here, have some.”
At this point, Mr. Cool saw the cashier’s nametag.
It read...
I know it may sound a bit sad or ridiculous, but it’s always been like that for me. I just dislike any fruits with seeds! If I can be bothered, I would actually take the time to de-seed apples, grapes, watermelons, olives, etc. before eating them. Otherwise I would just go for bananas. No seeds there. Don’t get me started with mangosteen or duku langsat. I just can’t be bothered. I’m completely appalled by oranges or any kind of citrus fruits. There’s a history to this, but I shall leave that for another blog entry.
However, I do love the durian fruit. Yes it has seeds, but you can’t really bite into one by accident. The seeds are huge for God’s sake! Eating a durian is much like eating Oreos; it’s a form of art.
I have been spoiling myself with seedless grapes this past few weeks. It kind of caught on during last Ramadhan and I have been stocking my fridge up with them ever since.
Tonight the local supermarket was unusually packed with customers doing their last minute shopping before Crimbo. There’s a good reason why I do my grocery shopping in the evenings and that is to avoid crowds and long queues at the cashier counter. Unfortunately, last night wasn’t one of those nights. It was to be expected anyway; Crimbo is only three days away.
In any case, my fridge was beginning to have an echo and desperately needed to be filled up. Anyway, I’m not going to bother with details so let’s skip to the interesting part.
My arm was beginning to feel sore from lifting the rather full handbasket around the store, so I decided it was time to head to the cashier counter. One just happened to have a single customer so I joined the queue and began to organise my shopping onto the conveyor belt. At this point, I realised the cashier was a female. She must have been in her early twenties; probably still studying, hardly any make-up on; just a hint of lip gloss, frizzy hair tied to the back, very fair skin and complexion; not even a single scar in sight, of mixed origin; probably English-Asian and a subtle yet extremely bright diamond stud on her nose. My eyes seemed to be fixated on it for some bizarre reason.
“Whoahhhh….”, I said in my head.
Soon the customer ahead of me had gone off and the female cashier was now attending to my shopping. Restraining myself from showing any form of testosterone-overflow excitement, I calmly head to the other end and started putting my stuff into plastic bags. From here onwards, I shall refer to yours truly as Mr. Cool.
“Hi!”, she greeted with a cheeky smile. Inside, Mr. Cool was clapping his hands like a circus seal begging for a fish meal. Outside, Mr. Cool was cool as ice.
“Hello”, said Mr. Cool and smiled back, as he continued putting his goods into the bags.
She continued on scanning until she got hold of the grapes, whereupon she started squeezing them like they were bubble-wrap and said, “That’s an excellent choice of grapes there!”
“Huh?”, Mr. Cool was caught off guard.
“These grapes look delicious! They’re all hard and firm! I would buy them off you!”, she continued as she handed them over.
The gentleman customer behind began to have a funny look on his face.
Mr. Cool didn’t say a word. He just looked at the cashier, smiled, took the grapes from her hand and put them into the bag. Mr. Cool couldn’t think straight at that moment because he was still in shock from what the cashier said earlier. She had complimented on his choice of grapes and he felt overwhelmingly flattered, not to mention a bit embarrassed; it was like a lingering sexual innuendo.
Suddenly, Mr. Cool had a thought. He took the grapes back out, snapped a small branch off and handed it over to the cashier,
“Here, have some.”
At this point, Mr. Cool saw the cashier’s nametag.
It read...
Technorati Tags: encounters, fruits, innuendos
posted by iJun at 11:31 pm
