I have, at best, a lukewarm feeling towards most fruits when it comes to choosing the perfect exam snack. Here’s a brief list of why.
- Apples: They’re good, a classic I’d say. I don’t have a problem with them, but my broken-once-and-glued-back-on front teeth sadly do. I suppose there’s also a chance you’d get your hands sticky if you munch too fiercely.
- Oranges: I love oranges. Just not the peeling process. Oranges are great when you’re sitting in bed on a cold winter night reading murder mysteries, but not so great when you’re scrambling to eat something before your exams, and your nails aren’t sharp enough to cut through, and when they finally do there’s orange juice everywhere.
- Tomatoes, blueberries, strawberries: These are some other fruits you might think would be nice exam snacks, but I’d argue they employ other mechanisms to save themselves from sleep-deprived, starving college students who care enough about whatever goes into their mouths. Simply imagine all the fingers that must’ve touched the piece of fruit you’re about to enjoy, and you’d swiftly realize no, they’ve got to be washed thrice under the tap, preferably with soap and more soap. Also, just as another complication, they come in bite-size pieces, so you’d need bags to even pack a somewhat decent meal.
- Pineapples, watermelons, cantaloupes: Yeah, good luck with that.
I could probably go on and on, but I wouldn’t want to bore you. Suffice it to say, I’ve long arrived at the conclusion that bananas are the best kind of fruit to bring to exams. They’re a bit too dry for me, and yellow’s not my favorite color, but they’re nutritious and do the trick.
Until last night.
It was 8 pm, and my roommate mentioned an 8 am math final she had the next day. Feeling empathetic, I offered her a banana I had taken from bplate. I opened my backpack, a really pretty leather one too, and realized my laptop had crushed the banana. Now, instead of a cherished morning snack, I was left with a banana stain I don’t know how to clean, a roommate that found the entire ordeal hilarious, and a deep feeling of betrayal.
But it was no more betrayal than a long overdue gesture of defiance. A final stand from the banana that screamed you chose me only because I am convenient, not because you like me the most, and in your carelessness in treating me you have crushed me and I have no choice but to break and stain our relationship.
And it’s true. Bananas aren’t my go-to fruit in general; they’re just my go-to when it comes to exams. And when I pack my bananas, it’s never ok I’ll put you here please don’t break I love you so much, like I am with my laptop, but only a swift toss and quick push to make sure my bag closes. On rare occasions I forget they exist until they turn black and brown, and when that happens I frown and chuck out the inedible parts. Once I put myself in the banana’s shoes, I couldn’t really stay annoyed anymore. It’s a feeling we all know, really, a compilation of questions we’ve all hoped to hear from someone we desperately wanted to be friends with.
What’s your favorite childhood memory? Would it be the smell of the dirt after a summer shower, the first new leaf on a neighboring tree that marked the start of your first spring, the siblings you must have had that shielded you from typhoons and the scorching sun? What’s your favorite color? The blue of the sky you grew under, the pink of the countless sunrises you greeted across the field, or perhaps a color you have never seen before, maroon, cyan, neon pink? Do you have a favorite show? What do you do in your free time? If you could be any other type of fruit, what would you be?
Tomorrow I can go grab another banana from bplate. I can ask it every question I could ever think of, we’d hold a delightful conversation I’m sure, but no matter how many other bananas I speak to in the future, I’ll never get to hear from the stain in my bag.
So go ask these questions. Go before it’s too late.