Yesterday, I called The Lawyer around 7:15 p.m to ask his thoughts on me going to the gym.
No, internet, I don’t need his permission to leave my cave of study hibernation and go workout, but I think it’s safe to say that I’m at that phase of studying where every. moment. seems. crucial. I’m second guessing myself, cursing my slowness in taking exams, and hyperventilating during study breaks, so it's safe to say that I can no longer think coherently.
The Lawyer, being the more sane and rational one in the relationship, told me that I should go to the gym and just listen to Goljan in the car. He said the break would do my body and mind good, so I went.
There is a large, Asian supermarket next to my gym that I only recently started shopping at. They have fresh, abundant produce that is cheap and the proximity to the gym means that I can run in quickly and not have to make an additional stop to buy groceries.
Usually my shopping experience there is uneventful. Despite the fact that few people speak English, I can identify what I want and check out without having to communicate very much anyway. Plus, they have all sorts of fruits and vegetables, like lychee and dragon fruit, which is fun for The Lawyer and me to try.
Yesterday I decided to get a watermelon, after I bought one at Trader Joe’s that was as sweet as candy. The Lawyer and I devoured the whole thing in three days and I thought I’d try my luck again. So, after carefully perusing the wall of various melons, I chose this one:
I usually go for the bigger ones, but the sweet one from Trader Joe’s had been tiny and light colored on the outside. I was hoping that lightning would strike twice.
As I was checking out on line, though, I noticed this blemish:
I couldn’t tell if that spot was superficial, or if a worm had actually burrowed into the watermelon. Do worms burrow into melons, you guys? I don’t know. I tried to communicate that there was a spot on the melon to the cashier, who interpreted my pointing to mean that I no longer wanted the melon. This led to frantic waving of hands with a, “No, no, it’s OK!,” which was meant to communicate, “No, I want it, I just want to get another one!”
Realizing that this pantomime between the sweaty gym girl and the confused cashier was not working out, the woman behind me in line started to translate.
“It’s just one price for the watermelons, so you can probably just switch it after she rings it up,” she said, highlighting exactly what I was trying to communicate.
Much to my dismay, however, my cashier was yelling something to the cashier next to us and didn’t hear the exchange.
I saw her ring it up as a yellow watermelon, which is not what I meant to get, but which I was willing to deal with. This supermarket is huge and there are many different varieties of melons in bins on the wall. It’s possible that I did accidentally pick a yellow watermelon. Since they were $1.99, compared to the $3.99 for regular watermelons, I figured it would be fine.
Pointing to the blemish for me, the woman behind me in line asked if I could switch the melon after I paid. I don’t know what the cashier said, but from her facial expression and body language, I garnered that the answer was no.
“She says it’s fine,” the woman behind me replied sheepishly, shrugging her shoulders.
Conscious of the fact that I was now the stinky English-speaker holding up the line, I said it was fine too. I mean, it was only $1.99. Even if I returned home with a yellow watermelon containing an indwelling worm, it was better than wasting time by going back to find another watermelon and getting back on line.
I picked up The Lawyer from his office on the way home, and explained the mystery of the watermelon and it’s possible inhabitants in the car. I told him that it would be a surprise reveal when we got home to find out what was inside. It would be like Christmas! Except, on a random Wednesday night…when we both had work to do…and our present might be disposing of a live worm!
So, playing along with me, The Lawyer very dramatically washed and prepared the melon for cutting.
A nice, sharp midline dissection and…
With no worms!
And, I saved $2.00! Woot!
It wasn't as sweet as the Trader Joe's one, but we got minimal excitement and distraction out of the experience, so I'm willing to let that go.
Now, back to your regularly scheduled studying.