Cotton Candy Grapes, have you seen these? I saw them for the first time last night. I ate one; I had to see what the Devil’s up to with all of that. Stealing exactly one grape every time I buy grapes is the entire extent of the shoplifting I do–it only took one ride home in a police car, when I was about 15, to curb me of that nonsense. That’s not even shoplifting; rather, it’s more like shoptasting or shopsampling.
And it should be expected, shouldn’t it? I mean, they’re just right there; they don’t even zip the bags closed, so you can make yours a little bigger or smaller if you want. And even though I know which kind of grapes I’m going–which are rather boring, green and seedless–sometimes they’re better than others, and I don’t want to get home with the batch that really sucks and think, “Man, I should have tried one of those.”
I think that eating one grape should be so accepted that the grocers just factor in one more grape to the weight of your purchase. Either that, or the cashier can have a proxy grape on hand to place on the scale with your bag. “And this is to make up for the one you ate,” he or she can say, fixing us with that condescending look of knowing like they might be our mother telling us we don’t need to bother denying it.
Last night, I would have gotten one over on them, however, because I didn’t sample just one grape but two. I had to sample my kind, or course, but, I’m sorry, you just can’t expect someone who is shopping for grapes to not sample a cotton candy grape. That’s what we’d even say if we were with a friend: “What? Cotton Candy Grapes? I gotta try one.”
We wouldn’t say anything like “I wonder how those are” or “I wonder if they really taste like cotton candy” or “I should try one of those.” Nope. Not one of us would say anything like that. Zero percentage of the populace would say anything other than “I gotta try one.” Plop.
I said that, and I was by myself. Plus, I don’t even like Cotton Candy. I know a six year old who does, however; his name is Simon, and that kid just loves him some cotton candy. So, whatever you do, don’t tell Simon about these Cotton Candy Grapes; if you do, however, prepare to give me a buck-fifty for every pound of grapes I buy, and I buy a lot of grapes.
Much love, be well.