So today! I had lunch, live and in person, with Chris! And I am pleased to report that he is neither weird nor psychotic. So if you were one of the people who got that funny stricken look when I told you I was having lunch with an online friend? And maybe suggested I dial "9" and "1" on my phone and hold my finger over "1" again the whole time? Chill. Amy did not get murdered in a suburban Rockville shopping mall.
But! Anyway! Lunch!
We had fun. Possibly a little too much fun. But then things got scary.
I noticed this big, huge red thing on the table next to us. And I mean huge. Bulbous. I suddenly remembered the music video for Joan Osbourne's second single that didn't do anything and whose title I cannot remember. But she was a maid? In a hotel? And there were goldfish in the toilet? And she picked up a huge strawberry that started beating like a heart?
Well, just look.
(Click for full-scale terror.)
That's one strawberry, people. One. And it's bigger than her hand. And she did not have small hands. And it was just sitting there, on a paper towel, in a burrito joint that does not sell fruit of any kind. I mean, there was a Safeway nearby but I must have missed the circular where they advertised huge-ass mutant strawberries.
Anyway. I have never in my life been so disturbed by produce. We did not stick around to see if she started glowing green or growing gills after eating the monster, but instead just snapped the above picture with Chris' phone and hightailed it out of there.
The killer tomatoes were probably in the restroom.