2 weeks ago
Mel and Kay had each bought a one-way boarding pass to Tokyo because they couldn’t afford to fly back home. They had not been concerned. They’d packed contraband.
"Since the airline lost the luggage containing the melons, we’ve got nothing to unload on the black market!" Mel raged, because a store’s window display featuring cantaloupes priced at tens of thousands of yen reminded her of the money she wasn’t making.
The window grandly exhibited produce, flawless fruits in boxes and on soft pads like jewelry. Kay studied the display. She pointed. “These watermelons are shaped like cubes.”
"Okay okay okay, I should’ve thought about the plan for a couple hours more," conceded Mel, rubbing her hair. "Okay okay. Could’ve googled more details. Some airlines lose less luggage than others. Fucking probability, smuggling is a fucking numbers game! Oh God! My journal was in that bag too!" Mel clawed the air.
She choked, “Some baggage handling perv’s gonna eat all the melons and read my journal!”
"I don’t think we could have competed with cube watermelons," said Kay.
The next morning, while camping in a furniture store and pretending to be a difficult customer who insisted on testing a bed for hours before buying, Mel wrote in an email to Kay, “Don’t be defeatist, what’s a cube watermelon next to a California honeydew from a genuine American Kroger?!”
Kay “tested” a nearby recliner, flipping through her phrase book in preparation for the next time a furniture salesman sneaked up on her. “Maybe I’ll claim to be staging a protest,” she muttered, searching for the Japanese words for moral outrage. “Won’t leave this chair until there is peace in the Middle East.”
Very random story/anecdote prompted by the above photograph “