Oh yes, we have no bananas

By Steve Galea

I’m not entirely certain we have entered the end times yet, but I do know almost all the signs are there. For instance, I went to the grocery store the other day and they were out of bananas.  

This would not have been such a big deal had Jenn not specifically asked me to get some. 

In response, I looked at her, winked, and said, “Don’t worry Jenn. I won’t let you down. I’ll get you a nice bunch of bananas. You can count on me. Honestly. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s go to the grocery store and buy bananas. I’m known for it. My banana purchasing skills are strong. Trust me, I won’t come back without bananas. You have my word … ”

Perhaps I should explain that bananas are a staple in our house these days because we just got a new Nutra-bullet blender, and we have been on a bit of a smoothie kick. OK, it would be more accurate to say I have developed an addiction to smoothies, and as we all know, addicts do strange and desperate things, which also might explain this column. 

Even worse, there was a banana shortage in our house. We were down to our last banana, and that wouldn’t do.

This is why I nearly went into panic mode when I noticed the section that generally is filled with bananas was devoid of them. And also why I accosted a passing produce section employee and said, perhaps a bit too desperately, “Hey Mr. Tally Man, when is the next shipment of bananas arriving?”

To this, he had no answer. 

The thought of returning home empty handed consumed me. 

When I arrived there, I brought in all the groceries and, after helping me put them away, Jenn looked around and said, “You didn’t get any bananas?”

“Oh, did I say I would?” I replied.

She gave me a stern look.

“Now I remember,” I said. “I left them in the front seat of the car. I’ll be back in a second.”

The drive to the second grocery store was relatively uneventful. And other than me being a little too celebratory when I saw they were flush with a fresh shipment of bananas, I think I handled it well.  

“Smoothie addiction?” The lady beside me whispered.

“Why would you think that?” I replied.

“You’re way too happy to see these bananas,” she mumbled.

“I need some for my pet monkey,” I lied. 

“I was up to three glasses a day,” she uttered.

“I can quit any time I like,” I replied. 

“Sure,” she said.

When I got home, Jenn had already used the last banana and was enjoying a wonderful looking fruit smoothie. And, just to show she wasn’t hooked, she only drank half and then walked it to the fridge.

“I’ll finish it later,” she said. “Are you making one?”

Suddenly, I thought about what I had just done – and, despite my self-loathing, put three bunches of bananas in the fruit basket, ripped one from the bunch and then started fumbling with it nervously. 

After a futile attempt, I put it down unopened and tried another, and failed. Then I failed to open two more. Finally, I said, “I think I’m done with smoothies.”

Jenn looked at me sympathetically and then made me one. I guess she knew I wasn’t peeling too well.