Here’s a little story that will lift your spirits in these dark times.
At work I’ve been snacking on fruit to try and be healthier. Yes, I want nothing more than to tear into a bag of M & Ms every day, but we all know that that is wrong and is the start of the slippery slope to fat bastardom, something I am keen to avoid at all costs. The human body and its relationship with metabolism, which has been well documented, starts to get worse the older you get. Whereas previously I could eat somewhere close to a pound of mince in one sitting and be perfectly fine, if I tried that now I would spend the rest of the week locked in a toilet.
I bought a pack of oranges for the vitamin C. They’re always described as easy peelers but they’re a shit and a half to get into. Unless the definition of easy peelers is, “something that requires a sharp knife to get into” then you’re not getting into one without, well, a sharp knife that is unless you want your hands covered in juice and pith. The last one in the pack was weird looking, it was paler than the others and kind of resembled a lemon in a certain light. It also had strange green spots that looked like mould, but they were there when I first bought them.
The more I looked at the orange the less I wanted to eat it. I started asking people at work of they wanted it to which I was greeted with a resounding “no!” for some reason. A few days went by and still there was no desire to eat it. You know me, I’d eat a sewer grate if it was coated in jam. Was it the fact that it took several minutes to get into it that was putting me off? That oranges are a pretty weak fruit overall? Who knows but whatever it was it permeated in my mind and caused a few more days to slip past.
Eventually I stopped being silly and I ate it. By now people were sick of me asking if I wanted to have the orange. I left it on my boss’ desk when she was in a meeting and, when she returned, responded with, “WHAT’S THAT DOING THERE? I don’t want your bloody orange, Ian!” I, in turn, thought this was hilarious (#fittingin). On a quiet day when nobody was looking, I stripped it of its skin and chomped it in three bites. The unusual green spots weren’t mould, so I presume they were some sort of birthmark.
A joke is only worth doing if you’re willing to run it right into the ground. I took a photo before I ate the orange so I could eventually send this to everyone in my team.
They are gonna love me so god damn much.
11 comments on “Orange / Lemon”
In fairness to all of your colleagues, that does look like a shite orange. It’s no good just grabbing any old bag of easy peelers, you need to check them all and give them a sensual squeeze to gauge their peeliness before you spend your hard-earned monwahs. It’s the only way to avoid nightmares like this.
I can’t be seen gently caressing fruit in a public place. What would the people say?
They’d say “look over there, Horace, there’s a gentleman who knows how to select quality produce and obtain good value for his hard earned money”. Assuming they were talking to Horace, that is.
That is the image that would show up in a picture dictionary next to the word ‘morange’.
Stupid morange fruit. Why are you buying bags of moranges? If Horace saw you at the shops he’d blank you, I’m pretty sure.
Is this more orange than orange? If I can get my photo in the dictionary, then I’m all for it.
Mioccele ver MaccMaver; Orangeologist at your service.
I think, before you can be an Orangeologist, you need to have at least a basic level of competence in buying decent citrus fruit. Please see my insightful tips above.
I got love for the fruit, that’s all you need to be an Orangeologist. That and seven years in a competent sixth form college.
Is that where you were from 2001 to 2008? Back in sixth form for a second stint? I did wonder.
I was bunking up on lots of subjects, preparing myself for the REAL world: washing machine repair, art, oranges, disco, hair pieces, crunk, corn silos and perennials.
“Bunking Up on Perennials: The Mioccele ver MaccMaver Story”