In today’s sex crazed society, is it possible to go anywhere or do anything without thinking about sex? Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’ve seen one too many episodes of Sex and the City — five too many times. (Can you blame me? It’s fabulous.) Although, I’m not necessarily thinking more about the act of sex per se as much as I’m thinking about things in a sexual way more often. Besides frequently detecting sexual innuendo during the most innocent, random conversations, I also catch myself attaching sexual significance to highly mundane tasks and observations. For example:
Consider something as anti-climatic as grocery shopping. A few weeks ago, I was perusing the fruit and vegetable section, when I had this sudden epiphany regarding a rather ample cucumber. As I grasped the cucumber in my hand, I began to blush and look around with obvious guilt. I was certain if anyone saw the color of my cheeks, and the hold I had on this cucumber, they’d know exactly what I was thinking and call the produce police for assault. What made it worse was I wasn’t even sure this was the cucumber I wanted. It wasn’t quite firm enough, but I didn’t want to draw even more attention to myself by touching another cucumber, so I just plunked it into my cart and wondered if there was some sort of psychologist I should be seeing. I’m either a sexual deviant who gets turned on by phallic vegetables, or I’m a complete prude because I can’t even hold carnal-looking produce without feeling embarrassed. Neither one can’t be good.
As I continued shopping, I tried to shake the cucumber from my mind, but unfortunately for me, mentally trying NOT to think about something only leads to further obsession. Suddenly almost every fruit and vegetable I looked at took on new meaning: Bananas were curved versions of the cucumber – some sway right and some left. Carrots were the smaller, skinnier, and less attractive version. Kiwis became testicles (or ovaries, if you think about it) — the shape is actually spot on; the size not too far off, and if the right one is selected, the texture is similar. I considered which was softer: the fur of a kiwi or the ‘down there’ man hair? Guess it would depend on the man and the kiwi.
Pears were symbolic of a woman’s curvy figure, while cherries … ah, cherries. Unfortunately, the cherry is a common metaphor, usually used only by men, to describe the “first time.” Personally, I always found the expression had a crass ring to it, but there it is. Peaches and plums: What can I say, they look like colorful butts. Peaches even have fuzz that feels similar to buttocks hair. Walnuts: Although not a fruit, vegetable, or phallic looking, I did find them in the produce section, and they are from the “nut” family (insert obvious male pun here). (F.Y.I.: Scientists have determined that several types of nuts, including walnuts, actually help slowdown the aging process of the brain. Have you ever looked at a walnut? It looks exactly like a human brain. Not a sexual matter, but a weird coincidence nonetheless. Just thought you’d like to know.)
Finally, I came upon the cucumber’s equal in sensual recall: the ever voluptuous cantaloupe. What young girl (in the absence of balloons of course) hasn’t taken a couple of cantaloupes and shoved them up under her shirt, while admiring her form in the mirror? True, cantaloupes tend to be much firmer than natural breasts, but consider the shape and the spot on the end that is pressed to determine ripeness. Tell me the image isn’t similar to that of a woman’s breast. I wonder if men ever feel uncomfortable selecting cantaloupes like I did with cucumbers. That could be an interesting store survey (if I can convince the manager).
Actually, the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that I am not sexually deranged. In fact, hasn’t it been said that we are what we eat? And more importantly, aren’t we all sexual beings, produced from a fruitful womb? Will you ever look at produce in the same way again?