This morning was a typical Monday, with me drinking coffee, preparing my work and bringing it over for dropoff in the other building.  As is routine, I swung by Lei’s office to see her.  She looked happier than she has in a bit, but that was mostly due to the fabulous purple shirt she is wearing today.  She assured me that she was not, in fact, as happy as she looked.  No matter, we chit chatted about the weekend in general and then, she told me she had something for me.  This made me excited, as whenever Lei gives me something, it is most likely one of two things:

1. Work to Do (because I’m always bored and always need work, this makes me happy)

2. Food to Eat (because I frequently forget to eat lunch and she brings extra fruit with her to work)

Today was option 2, which is most commonly a piece of fruit.  Today, was a pear…  Which was nice of her, except (and I’m being totally serious when I say this) pears freak me out.  I don’t know why.  When they are cut up in little squares and Boy is eating them mixed with other fruit coverred in sugary syrup, they don’t really bother me.  I still don’t like looking at them, but they are easily avoided.  At the store, I don’t know where they are, but they aren’t by the fruits I like (plumbs, strawberries, oranges, grapes, bananas) or else I block them out from my vision. 

Until the age of 18, I had never seen a pear in real life.  This was hysterical to my friend Jason, as he handed me a pear one day and I looked at him and asked, “What is this?”  He didn’t understand the question.  I didn’t understand what he didn’t understand.  And when he finally understood that I had no idea what this fruit was, he just started laughing and didn’t stop for quite some time.  I wouldn’t eat it, I remember that.  I was too upset by Jason laughing at me.  I think I may have given it to my friend Ron to eat, or something like that, but I didn’t eat it. 

When Boy moved in a few years ago, I remember him telling me that he liked pears or we had a conversation about pears.  I laughed off the fact that I don’t like them (and I may have told him they freak me out, but if I did, he most likely thought I was joking and I’ve left it at that; he’s never brought home pears from the store outside of those little fruit cups). 

Anyway, Lei hands me this pear.  I stared at it in my hand, wondering about my bravery.  Last night, I had gone to the circus, something that has freaked me out since a bad childhood experience at the circus.  Considering that it was a piece of fruit, I decided to give it a go, although I did confide to Lei that pears freak me out – apparently, she did not believe me.  The pear and I made it back to my desk, me having contemplated it the entire time.  I decided just to go for it.

I bit the pear.  IT FREAKED ME OUT.  Why?  What is this weird phobia?  I have no idea, but I was not taking another bite.  I’m sorry to say I wasted food and threw it out.  So, fine, pears freak me out.  If they tasted good, I would really try to beat this phobia.  But, really, it’s not like pears are strawberries and therefore, delicious.  They taste kinda like apples, and not the good Granny Smith kind, the odd yellow kind that I don’t find delicious, no matter what the branding says.

When Lei asked how the pear was and I told her the truth, she laughed at me, as if I was a stand-up comedian of some sort.  Even when I tried to tell her I was serious, she laughed more.  Finally, she called me a psycho, which hurt my feelings a little bit.  But, I’m freaked out by pears, so I have to agree with her (if only a little).