Weaponized Watermelon

I hit a man with a watermelon today.

Swinging like a pendulum from the shopping bag slung low on my shoulder, it connected solidly with his knee, startling a low grunt of discomfort from deep within his subconscious. Too embarrassed to make proper eye contact, I can’t say for certain whether he was in genuine pain or just surprised by the melon’s breach of personal space, but I felt the acute pain of social misconduct.

“So-orry!” The words tumbled out as awkwardly as my unstable footing, lurching forward unsteadily as the bus accelerated at random, up and down the precipitous hills of San Francisco. Still wrestling to gain full control of the wayward watermelon, the weight of it grew more burdensome with every passing city block, threatening to rip lose from the threadbare gussets already straining to contain its girth. Soon it began lashing out at other innocent bystanders, swinging wildly like a mace, threatening to enter full wrecking ball mode if only it could work up the momentum.

Even after muscling into a vacant seat, wedging the bag firmly between my feet, the little round demon still rolled about with abandon, seeking a quick getaway. Clearly, it had dreams of flying freely across the floor, bowling down anything in its path. Fighting for its life as though it understood the fate that lay ahead, it was as inconsolable as it was uncontrollable.

Mercifully, before the melon could detonate in an explosive, sticky blowout or cause further bodily harm, the doors swung open to the sweltering street, dumping us unceremoniously at our destination. Though the encounter may not have ended well for that innocent man on the receiving end of my watermelon’s wrath, his pain was not in vain; successfully taming the beast was a sweet relief, indeed.

An Unexpected Interloper

It’s been a banner year for our postage stamp-sized garden out back, finally turning out greater yields than the miniscule seeds that went into the ground in the first place. Predictably, with greater growing success comes the need for greater vigilance, as plump tomatoes gleam brighter and redder by the day, proving irresistible to both human and animal passersby. As if it wasn’t difficult enough to let the immature fruits ripen on the vine, as deeper shades of blush tempt a premature harvest, keeping other creatures from that same impulse has become something of a full-time occupation. Flimsy netting can only go so far, especially with the creatures smart enough to burrow beneath that loosely applied barrier.

Such was the case when one particularly ambitious (or perhaps, merely hungry) rabbit made it past the fence unhindered. Seemingly stunned to have stumbled upon this treasure trove of produce, he couldn’t quite get his bearings, unsure if it was all real or just a beautiful dream. Standing slack-jawed on a big green hill to get a better view of this bounty, it never even occurred to him that it was in fact a baby watermelon right beneath his feet. Beggars can’t be choosers, but when faced with a near limitless selection of edibles, this particular herbivore singled out the one thing he wanted most, neglecting all the easier prey: Carrots.

Upon spotting the green, frilly tops shooting up from the tender earth, there were no suitable alternatives as far as the rabbit was concern. Leaping off the neglected melon that might as well have been made of stone, he made a beeline for his beloved, fervently scooping away the dirt and yanking those promising sprouts with all his might. Possessing impressive might despite his size, he made quick work of the task and soon took one rapturous bite full of…

Parsley root? Indignant, he spat out the mouthful of beige tuber, still in disbelief at what he was tasting. Seriously, who plants parsley root instead of carrots? To call this a disappointment wouldn’t even scratch the surface at what this industrious rabbit was feeling, especially after all of the obstacles he had to overcome, all for that subtly celery-like taste. It wasn’t sweet at all! Who on earth would eat, let alone plant such a bizarre, unlovable vegetable?

Suddenly realizing that the garden mistress must be a raving lunatic, he was gripped with fear, sensing the gravity of his hunger-crazed and thoughtless actions. He fled the scene without a second to lose, abandoning his unwanted plunder right where it lay.

Rabbit amigurumi pattern from ABC Crochet by Mitsuki Hoshi. And yes, I do happen to love parsley root; deal with it, you silly rabbits.