Tomato Frenzy
It’s like winning the lottery!
Today at work a woman came into the business to take care of her account. She was carrying a plastic grocery bag that seemed rather heavily laden. I had been dealing with this woman — and her husband and two kids — for around four years. I thoroughly love this woman. She ALWAYS has a smile on her face.
Mind you, she often bitches about things. She bitches about her husband and her kids and her job and about life in general but whenever she bitches about something she always has a smile on her face. People bitch at me all the time and I try to let it roll off of me like water off a duck’s back. But when this particular woman bitches about something she somehow manages to turn it into something delightful that I don’t mind hearing about. Very few people can do that.
When we finished our business she hoisted the grocery bag onto the counter and said, “This is for you.”
I looked inside the bag and saw about 7 or 8 large, very red and very ripe organic home-grown tomatoes!
I was speechless and utterly beside myself with profound joy! Finally, I was able to speak, “But it’s still early July. You’ve got tomatoes already?
She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, well, my darling weirdo husband decided to set out tomato plants two weeks earlier than he did last year. And not only that but he decided to put out twice as many tomato plants as he did last year. Seriously, does he hate me or something?”
That is when I remembered the conversation I had with Sharon (that may or may not be her real name) and her husband (whose name may or may not be Roger) late last summer. They came in with their two bizarro kids and we ended up having a conversation for half an hour.
During last year’s conversation I learned that Sharon’s husband Roger was an avid organic gardener as well as an enthusiastic chef. (A man after my own heart.) I also learned that Sharon emphatically hated tomatoes. She told me that she had not eaten a tomato since she was 8 years old. She hated tomatoes and anything with tomatoes in it. Would I like some tomatoes?
Does a chicken have lips? Of course I would love some home-grown organic tomatoes! Like Sharon’s husband Roger (if that was his real name), I thoroughly love tomatoes. I am a certified tomato freak. A hundred years ago when I was just a stupid kid my mother grew tomatoes in her garden. She had a problem with tomatoes mysteriously disappearing from her tomato plants. Don’t tell anyone but it was me.
The tomatoes at the local grocery store are very red and pretty but they taste like styrofoam. They come from Baja California in Mexico where they are picked while still green and then shipped north. Unlike humans, they have no trouble crossing the border and they are never separated. They travel from one warehouse to another to another, crossing numerous state lines, then they are gassed so they turn red then they arrive at the local grocery store. Organic tomatoes grown in the very town in which I live, however, taste like tomatoes are supposed to taste. They are delicious!
That conversation a year ago suddenly changed from tomatoes to horror movies. It was those two darn kids (whatever their names are) who abruptly changed the conversation. It turned out that both the girl and boy were die-hard horror movie aficionados — as was their father Roger.
The boy was connected genetically to one parent and the girl was genetically connected to the other parent. They were remnants from previous marriages. I have never been able to figure out which kid was connected to which parent and to be honest I really don’t care. Does it matter? The thing is that both of them were rabid lovers of scary movies!
I have no use whatsoever for horror movies! I mean seriously, what is the freaking point? The last horror movie I ever saw was in a theater back in the 1970s. It was The Exorcist. I have never watched a horror movie since then.
As the conversation a year ago progressed I learned that Sharon did not care for horror movies, either. She preferred dramas and romantic comedies. (A woman after my own heart.) I learned that while Sharon’s husband and two children loved tomatoes and horror movies that Sharon did not care for either.
A week after that conversation a year ago Sharon and Roger came into the business and presented me with a plastic grocery bag full of home-grown organic tomatoes. I was like some kid being granted a wish by some genie who came out of a magic lamp. I deluged them with thank yous and gratitude and joy. Those were the best damn tomatoes I had eaten in years.
But that was a year ago. How our short-term memory can fail us! I had forgotten about that.
But Sharon remembered.
After a long silent moment, Sharon smiled and said, “I remember how appreciative you were last year when we brought you some tomatoes. Today I came home from work thoroughly exhausted and I walked into the kitchen and then the dining room and I saw that the entire dining table was completely covered with freshly picked tomatoes. My first thought was, ‘Holy shit, I’ve got to get rid of some of these quickly.’ And then my next thought was of you!”
“So here are some tomatoes for you,” she said, pointing at the bag. She then pointed her finger at my face, “So don’t buy any tomatoes at the grocery store for the next two months or so. We’ll be supplying you with all the tomatoes you could possibly want.
I was beside myself. I felt like I just won the lottery.
Sharon turned and walked off towards the exit. Halfway there, she turned around and pointed her finger at me again, “Oh, and by the way, in about two weeks or so the cucumbers will be ripe!”
Holy shit! I didn’t just win the lottery. I won the fucking Powerball! I am so happy!
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