Motherhussy

Sweet Lady "A"

I’ve recently come to terms that I have a new addiction. No, it’s not Bacardi and Vanilla Coke—that was so 2002-2003. And no, it’s not Sweet’s Brand chocolate covered raspberry sticks—although, on second though—I may just start that addiction back up. Lastly, but not leastly, it’s not coffee. I enjoy and love coffee, if coffee were not ground up into a fine powder and mixed with scalding hot water, I would consider marrying it (except then I would be a bigamist). This addiction is more scary than any of the above, because on the surface it seems healthy. But, like so many other good things in my life, I’ve twisted and contorted it so much that it has become healthily unhealthy.

Ladies and Gentlemen: I am addicted to avocados.

It all began one night a little over a month ago when my landlord, a longshoreman at LA/LB Harbor, informed me that a HUGE shipment of avocados was coming in that evening. He asked me if I liked avocados, because if I did he would hook me up with some. I responded, “Like a baby likes a binkie covered in frozen custard!” That meant yes. A resounding YES! I’ve always enjoyed avocados, but growing up in Utah they were seasonal, and when they did end up in the grocery store they cost almost as much per ounce as gold. So, needless to say, avocados were and are a treat to me. Until they started to control my life.

Anyway, back to the story…

That night after my landlord got home from work, he brought over a bag of about a dozen of the most perfect, mouthwatering, large, god-blessed green beauties. They were just on the edge of ripeness, so I stuck them all in a brown sack and tried to forget about them for a day or two. At that point in time, I hadn’t tasted them yet and I was even charitable enough to dole out about six of them to some friends. If there is anything in life that I will regret upon my death, it will be that. I should have kept them all for myself!

When the avocados reached ripeness, I was so overjoyed I almost cried. For almost a week straight, I would cut one up, squeeze on some lime and a little salt and pepper, and eat one for dinner, with tears in my eyes. It wasn’t long until they were gone, and by then it was too late. I had formed a habit. Every inch of me an addict. My cells hungered for the Vitamin E, potassium, and other addicting agents contained within that bumpy peel.

One of the local grocery stores here, Vons, had avocados on sale—10 for 10.00. So I bought 10. They didn’t even last a week. The sale is over now so I had to buy them four for 5.00. I have four beauties sitting in my kitchen right now, I can almost hear them ripening my senses are so acutely avocado oriented now. It’s gotten to a sickening point actually. All I want to eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner are avocados. The habit is almost as expensive as cocaine! I don’t know what to do. My friend Carolyn’s next door neighbors have an avocado tree in their backyard. Can you believe that?! It’s almost as good as having a money tree if you ask me. Every time I go to Carolyn’s, I gaze longingly at the tree—willing for one ripe jewel to fall directly into my hands. That tree is a reminder of everything that is wrong in my life. That tree taunts me. It shows me all of the good in the world that is just out of my reach. It got so bad tonight, that when Carolyn called to ask me to move something off of the porch of her house, I did—but then, I walked further into the backyard to test my luck with the tree. Its branches just barely hanging over her yard almost close enough to touch. I saw an empty bucket by the fence. I took the bucket and carefully climbed on it—yes, I could reach the tree. I quickly, before anyone could see, grabbed the first avocado I could reach, and then I jumped down. It wasn’t ripe. I felt cold and empty inside. My only consolation was in the fact that I did have avocados at home—one of which I’m going to eat the shizz out of as soon as I post this blog.

This is one of the longest blogs I’ve posted in a while, and it’s about a freaking avocado! How sad am I? I will drown my sadness in, well, you know what. Time for another hit off the A-bomb…

posted by Anonymous @ 6:23 PM