I smeared the last of the melty peanut butter on my hot toast, and topped it with sliced banana. I took a whiff and smiled, for good mornings always smelled of peanuty-bananasexy toast. Carefully, I wrapped the precious slice in a paper towel, slung my purse onto my shoulder, and prepared to exit the break room. Destination: 4th floor, home of my cubicle.
I reached the elevator at the same time as an elderly gentleman, who gave me a small nod. I’d never seen him before. We stepped on and he asked, “Where to?”
“Four, please,” I said. He pressed three for his floor and then four for mine, and the doors slid shut. Begin awkward silence and shifty-eyed staring. He looked long and hard at my breakfast and squinted his eyes.
“Bananas…on toast?” he asked, scrunching his eyebrows.
“Oh yeah,” I grinned. “With peanut butter, too.”
His face morphed into a sharpei dog’s wrinkly grimace that made him look 300 years old. “Umm…okay…” he said in a rude tone, and raised his eyes up as if to say, “Young people these days and their obnoxious breakfast combinations…this is insanity!” The elevator dinged and he gave me one last haughty stare before exiting. The doors slid shut. I took another whiff and said to the gooey, banana-sexified toast, “Shhh…it’s okay. Don’t listen to that idiot. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. You’re mine and that’s all that matters.” The elevator dinged once more and I stepped onto the fourth floor, ready to seize the day.
If you haven’t already, give it a try as long as you like toast, peanut butter and bananas separately. Put them together and it equals pure magic. You’ll be defending your breakfast in no time.