Tomatoes

When I came to a realization that Mike had a more recent blog post than me, I decided that it was time to take some action.

So I was buying groceries on Saturday, and while I'm sitting there in front of the tomatoes half pretending to look well-versed in tomato-choosing and half resisting the urge to juggle them (they're the perfect size and were screaming my name), a girl walks up behind me.

"I'm sorry, can I squeeze in here?" she said, indicating that she too wanted to look at the tomatoes, and for all I know she wanted to juggle them too.

AND BOOM!

It hit me. Why in the world do we apologize for such ordinary things? She was so sincere in her asking that you would have thought I was guarding a roomful of sleeping babies, and she had turned on the fire alarm. I think there could be a much more natural way for us to inconvenience people without diminishing the sincerity of an apology.

"It's okay," I said. "That's like saying you're sorry for hitting me in bumper cars."

She laughed and we started talking, and she taught me the secret to choosing a good tomato is by its smell.

So pretty much, if you want a good tomato, smell it first.