I don’t like to cut. I drop.

I suppose that’s not a good way to be, but I will not eat an avocado, or most other foods for that matter if part of it is bruised, or moldy or yucky.

Oh, and bananas too. I’m not breaking off a gross piece and then eating the rest. Not going to happen.

All or nothing. I’m almost certain this is a character flaw. I think Buddhists frown on it and I’m sure it’s wasteful, but I don’t see it changing anytime soon.

Even worse, and this is a little hard to admit, my attitude often extends to people.

You know those old women, usually in movies, that look at a person and say, “You’re dead to me.”? I’m not that bad, but sometimes I can relate.

Contrary to what my children say, I am open minded. I always try for friendly and some people have even called me fun, but if I find a yucky part I tend to move on.

Now I need to clarify what “yucky” means when it comes to human beings because this post could take a dark turn. Yucky humans have nothing to do with physical appearance. I enjoy the whole physical fruit bowl.

It’s the inside where I’m less tolerant.

I can be going along, enjoying a person’s company, hoping she is enjoying mine, and then the yucky is revealed.

Unlike more amenable, glass is half-full and everyone-is-doing-the-best-they-can people I throw the whole thing out. I drop it, and I can’t imagine how anyone could overlook such a moldy part and still enjoy the rest of that strawberry.

There are broad categories of yucky: being mean, stupid (ignorant is one thing, but stupid is yucky), jealous–basically all the things we learned not to do in kindergarten.

Then there are less obvious dents and dings of yuck which are indicators of a larger slimy part below: being disrespectful or talking on the phone while interacting with waitstaff, teachers, bus drivers, or pretty much anyone who is paid to help and doesn’t need your arrogant, entitled shit.

I am a bit like Yoda when it comes to the subtle stuff. I sense it and tend to drop the whole apple with little inspection. I’m sure someone reading this might ask, “Are you saying that you would stop socializing or ‘drop’ someone because he or she was rude to a waitress?”

Yes. That is what I’m saying.

There are lots of fruits to choose from and limited space in one life.

If I need to cut around a rotten part (hating a different color, religion, or bra size), or even a more subtle bruise (“Look at that body, I’ll bet she’s a slut.”), I don’t want you in my bowl.

Plenty of nicer, more accepting people, might just slap you upside the head and say, “Cut that out.”

Maybe those are the same people that don’t waste the whole banana, but that’s not me. Sorry.

My thoughts from the laundry room. Sleep Naked.

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