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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1938979-Pears
by R.Lani
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Comedy · #1938979
A man happily alone finds himself facing an awkward encounter in the produce isle.
The leakes were on sale. I thought I should buy some, but I wasn’t making Chinese food that week. So, instead I bought the pears that were also on sale. Pears were good and I often ate them while condemning myself to a life only lived in my one room apartment watching Victorian Pornography.

Those lady’s legs, they make a man weak.

“Hey, I like your pants.”

I heard these words behind me, but I didn’t think they were for me.

“Steve.”

Steve is my name.

“Did you not hear me?”

I turned.

“I’m sorr—.” I was surprised to see my best friend’s husband standing right behind me. He was smiling awkwardly down at my bulge.

“Hey, Steve.” He said. “What’s going on?”

My face didn’t move, much like my bulge. “Well, uh, Carl.” I said. “Well, uhm….I’m shopping. I’m just buying some pears. What’s going on with you?” I asked awkwardly holding the ball shaped pear bodies in the palms of my hands.

Carl moved closer. “You know, I wanted to say…I appreciate your friendship, Steve.” He said. He began to rub the pears in my hands. He slowly glided his finger up and down the curve of the pear.

I didn’t really know how to react, neither did my bulge.

“Uhm, Carl, I…”

“Run away with me, steve.” Carl said now grasping my pears hard. “Leave with me now and never come back. Leave this place with me.”

I found myself standing there silent not really sure how to respond. When one is faced in situations where someone is grasping their pears in the middle of a produce isle begging you to go away with them; one just isn’t properly equipped with a casually, polite response.

“Carl…” I said, taking my pears from his grasp. “What are you doing?”

Carl looked confused, more confused than me. “Steven, please…” He said. “I can’t do this anymore.”

As stupid as the question was, it seemed appropriate. “Can’t do what?”

Carl backed away leaning on the produce shelf. “I can’t be with my wife anymore.” He said. “I can’t do this…I can’t.” He had tears in his eyes. “I thought I could do this…but I can’t.”

For some reason I didn’t understand, I felt guilty. “I’m sorry Carl that you feel this way, but I can’t help you.” I said. “As you know, I am happily alone.” I said. “And I can’t love you, not in the way you want me to.”

Carl closed his eyes. “How am I going to tell her?” He asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t know. I really don’t.”

I bagged my pears and placed them in my cart, Carl’s eyes were on the pears.

“I don’t’ believe you.” He said.

I crooked my head. “I don’t…”

“You say you’re happily alone. I don’t believe you.”

I put my eyes down. “Whether you believe me or not, that’s how it is.”

Carl sighed. “Living life fiddling with yourself on your couch isn’t happiness.”

I started walking away, feeling unbearably uncomfortable by the conversation continuously perpetuated by Carl.

He followed after me down the produce isle.

“You can’t keep running like this, Steve.” He said. “I’ve tried running from myself, but you can’t keep up. Everything catches up with you and soon you will have to give in.”

I stopped looking back at him. “I’m not gay, Carl.” I said.

Carl drooped his head. “I know, and that’s okay. I love you, but…I know.” He pushed the hair from his face. “but you can’t live like this forever. One day you will have to be with someone.”

“I’ve never been with anyone.” I said. “I think I’ll be alright.”

“I thought I’d be alright living the life I’m living, but I’m not because I’m lying.” Carl paused. He moved closer to me, putting his hands in mine. “As cliché’ as this sounds, stop lying to yourself.” He just looked at me. “You can’t pretend.”

We were in the middle of the produce isle holding hands staring directly into each other’s eyes. I can’t imagine what the other shoppers were thinking. For a moment, I let myself go. I wasn’t in control.

I kissed Carl’s hand closing my eyes.

Carl just looked at me.

There’s something about a grocery store. There’s something about letting go.

There’s something about buying a one way ticket to Canada.

© Copyright 2013 R.Lani (r.lani at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1938979-Pears