Biography of a Biodegradeable

 

I was born into a family of one of the more "user-friendly" fruits, or so you could say. I use that term because I don't consider myself to be messy to eat, and thus for a quick snack, you can take me practically anywhere. But this "take me anywhere" stuff isn't always all that it's cracked up to be....

Before we continue, I'd like to get everything out in the open -- I'm a banana, OK? I know I'm not regarded as especially classy, but lots of people like me nonetheless.

Recently, I was separated from the cluster in which I was born, and I found myself on a journey -- more specifically, on a Trailways bus from NYC heading upstate. At the start of this journey, I was tossed into a big, crinkly plastic bag by a woman who had a butt that tested the limits of the way-too-tight, bright red polyester stretch pants she was wearing. This woman plopped herself right down in the seat next to an innocent-looking girl named Laura.

From the get-go, Laura wasn't incredibly thrilled with the woman in the outstretched red polyester pants. She didn't even ask Laura if she could sit in the seat next to her, and then the space necessary to accommodate her ample posterior caused Laura to be scrunched against the window more so than she would have liked. If this weren't enough, the woman kept her big, crinkly plastic bag straddled between her legs for the duration of the trip, fussing with it constantly. Generally speaking, she was making herself a nuisance to Laura, who never asked for any of this commotion/inconvenience in the first place.

About half an hour into the ride, the woman rummaged through her big, crinkly bag, and took me out of it. She unpeeled me, and within mere moments, consumed my insides. That's fine -- I have no complaints with her eating me -- I mean, after all, that's what us bananas are for. But then came the travesty: She stuffed my peel into the netted magazine holder on the back of the seat in front of her, and for all intents and purposes, was going to leave me there!

When I was left hanging in the magazine holder, I noticed that from time to time, Laura would look at me, with scorn upon her face. I knew she was as disgusted with this selfish, lazy act as I was -- but the difference was she could do something about it, whereas I couldn't. Laura became my only hope -- without her intervention, I knew I'd be left to suffer a disgraceful ending: I would rot away on public display, stripped of every ounce of my dignity, and all the while, I'd be an unpleasant sight for others. This was something our Laura just would not have, although I wasn't sure what she might have up her sleeve to remedy the situation. At first, neither did she.

It seemed like the woman was going to get off a stop before Laura, whereby she could enact a plan: When the woman was heading off the bus, Laura would yell out, "Excuse me! You've left your banana peel in the magazine holder!" and then she would lift me out and dangle me about. That seemed like a good plan, but then it turned out the woman wouldn't be getting off first after all -- she was going to get off at the same stop as Laura. Laura thought this plan wouldn't have the same "oomph" if they both left the bus at the same time. And also, in all honesty, Laura wasn't quite sure she could go through with it --