Fruit or Truth

I love bananas.

They are my favorite fruit because I am like the mist, I am here and there, a mystery even to myself, so eating something without the hassle of having to wash it first makes all the difference.

Grumpy was having one of his spells.

I remember walking into his kitchen and seeing this bunch of sweet bananas, picking one, peeling it and eating it.

He was in the sitting room, having one of the rhetorical conversations that made me question if he was Hamlet re-incarnated. It was at this moment that he turned and said “why would you eat a banana real slow in front of someone?”

“Wait, what?”

“Yes, you…standing there eating a banana like you are onto something! I need a break, do you want to get out of here? I mean, let’s go to Java, you can call that or call them and reserve a table anything but the sight of you eating a banana!”

“Neh!What’s up with you?”

“Let’s get going and are you calling Java or should I call?”

“Here, take my phone and call them…you just took the fun out of eating bananas, but I am carrying this bunch to eat when I get home, miles away from you…kwani what’s wrong with loving bananas? They have Potassium and that’s good for you! So stop hating…kwanza you and your oranges!”

“Eish! Look…pole, it’s just…don’t ever do that.”

“Eat a banana? It’s the only fruit I love!”

“Look, I’ll be honest with you right now, but get in the car first, and maybe you won’t hit me while I am driving- but as the only person who can stand your weird, I’ll tell you the truth. Never eat a banana real slow in front of a stranger.”

sliced ripe banana on round white ceramic plate

3 thoughts on “Fruit or Truth

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.