Prince Albert

Muffet

“Excuse me, I can’t help but notice you’re staring at my…”

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1 Comment

  1. She got in line number eight with her cart full. Bread and produce, neatly stacked atop, above the boxes and bags of various frozen items (and, of course, a watermelon), two plump cantaloupes ripely claiming the child’s seat as their temporary home. The lines were long that day, and she settled in for a quiet, inconspicuous wait.
    That was when she noticed the man at the end of line number nine. His thick-rimmed glasses and sweater-vest labeled him, but it was his gaze that singled him out. He had his eyes transfixed on her fruit.
    “Excuse me, I can’t help but notice you’re staring at my melons,” She quipped with a friendly grin.
    His cheeks pinked before retorting, “It’s just been so long since I’ve seen such lovely Cucumis melo, I couldn’t help myself.” He smiled back at her.
    Their lines moved forward, and they followed along almost in unison.
    “I have a pretty good eye for freshness,” she conceded, “And a future fruit salad in dire need of a little orange.”
    “Consider it a cookout I’ll envy,” He acceded, taking a moment to observe the contents of her cart. “You look like you picked some great mangoes, too,” He added.
    “Well, if you promise to keep it to yourself, I’ll let you in on the fruit salad secret,” Her eyes met his.
    “Cross my heart!”
    “Purple grapes. I prefer green for almost everything else, especially freezing. And you CAN have both green and purple. But it’s not a fruit salad without purple grapes.”
    “Wow,” He nodded, “That makes a lot of sense, aesthetically and otherwise.”
    They both moved forward in line once more.
    “Say,” He started, “Would a culinary master like you consider allowing a novice like myself to take you for coffee or tea sometime?”

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