Monday, April 6, 2009
Waxy, not the kind that's obvious, but the kind you find out after you've already taken a bite, and remains on your tongue, unyielding. A roundness that gives way to unexpected mealiness under your teeth. You spit it out, then throw it in the garbage where it makes a satisfying thud as it hits the bottom. It still had a sticker on it when you took a bite, what made you think it would be different from any of a thousand tasteless red apples you've subjected yourself to over the course of a lifetime? Who thinks of these things? Why hasn't there been a Great Red Apple Uprising? There are many delicious apples out there, and none of them come from Jewel. You knew this but somehow the hum of the fluorescent lighting, the mist of the automatic spray machines, and the piped in recording of "singin' in the rain" suckered you in, once again.