Peachy

I worked out tonight. An hour and a half. I know tonight I'll sleep fine, and wake up chipper with a chubby scary enough to cause my wife to jealously interrogate me on who i was writhing with in my dreams. Tomorrow during the day I'll question my efforts as it'll feel like I did nothing. Two days from now, in the early afternoon, I'll get up from my desk to drink some green tea, and i wont be able to raise my arms without whimpering. That's how it works. One day you're a man, the next you're a wolf. (sorry, watching American Werewolf in London).

When i got in from the gym i was inspired to sing a song. I don't know how to sing, let alone play guitar, but i started on both and enjoyed myself for a good half hour in unintelligible lyrics muffled by sloppy strumming. "kitty sometimes has poo on his butt, i think the hair on his ass i will cut..."

Of course that morphed into a song about Chloe's wonderful attributes. When something is in your house as epic as my wife's ass, you must serenade it in swooning song.

Workout. Singing. Hungry. Snack. I recently got peaches at Nob Hill on Nick's suggestion. They were overwhelming. Bite after bite, my wife's posterior fell further into non-existence. This peach, this fruit handed down from god, to Raley's, to Nob Hill, to me, was nurtured its entire life specifically to satisfy my taste buds. It punched me. They say when someone is in a traumatic life-threatening accident, their life flashes before their eyes. If this is true, this peach was taking fatal blows. I watched as the juice escaped through my slurping and left a glossy streak down the curve of fine fur.

"slurp, yum... slurp, oh god..."

"Chloe, you gotta eat one of these!"

I ran to the fridge and grabbed the next one. "Here." I jutted out my arm as if it were burning my hand.

I could see the anticipation and she licked her lips. It let out an impressive snap as she broke its skin. Nothing. You could see it in her eyes. She got a bad one. I took a bite. Yep, hard and crunchy, more like an apple than a peach. Must have been from another batch. I immediate ran back to the fridge to grab another. I kept hers for myself. She had to experience the glory of my first fruit high.

Peach #3. What the fuck... no where near #1. This one Chloe finishes. It's good, but good like having to release your own tension, not a marathon sex session with the goddess Rose McGowan.

What an absolute dissapointment. I've had the greatest peach in human history... and it was the only one of the bunch. We've eaten three between us. There's one more in the fridge. My bowels tremble in fear, as one more attempt will force a bout of the skitters, and possibly sleepless night.

One more try... The first bite is close. Handed off to Chloe. "Emm, i9've had better."

I take a bite myself and believe it. The peach certainly cant go to waste, and it is still very good, but it starts to make my tongue raw.

I know I'll be chasing the dragon like a junkie. That first high, the divine nature of that first experience. In ten years I'll be homeless, making a cardboard camp in front of fruit stands from shore to shore, and when the grocer's back is turned i'll be taking my bite of each peach, turning it's exposed flesh face down and back into the stack as i sneak that next bite... chasing the dragon. I fear i won't find it again. and with that, a song about peaches.