I pealed a grapefruit this morning. I know; momentous, huh. For some reason I have always loved the big squishy juicy fruit that bears no resemblance to grapes at all. Why it is important that I pealed one this morning? Because of this: It fought back. One peal into the bitter rine and a fountain of citrus water hit me in the face. It was downhill from there as the grapefruit essentially destroyed itself. The only way I could consume this ninja fruit was to eat it over the sink looking like someone with no meal manners in their brains. If the guy I spoke with yesterday knew that I had battled the bulgiest of seeded treats, then he probably would be laughing his Pink Floyd 1973 tour shirt off at the way I had to eat my morning meal. I had the glazed expression, the dripping vital juices, and the messy fingers. All I was missing was the guttural utterance of “Brraaaaaaains.”
Breakfast Zombie, I have become.
As for said “pink floyd’ t-shirt wearing boy, I met him in the oddest way. I stopped at the Beehive to get a water refill from having ridden my bicycle from Burbank. I asked him if he could keep an eye on my bike while I went inside, and he nodded. When I came back out, we started talking, and although I was sweaty from the ride and donned in my cycling clothes, we enjoyed a nice conversation, and even listened to a couple of songs at the open mic night. He was nice, and somehow got me to sing “Autumn Leaves,” –a song I haven’t sung in years since jazz class in college. He’s new to L.A, and I although I think he’s sweet, I find it cute that he somewhat resembles John Lennon.
And now, ladies and gentlemen, I will listen to a white boy rap in Lemonade Mouth’s “Determinate.” It’s catchy.
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