Friday, February 29, 2008
Normally, I wake up around 6.35, which is way too early to digest any food. So I wrap up some sandwiches to go and have my breakfast on the train. Yesterday morning, I stuck my hand in my backpack and felt around for the package. When I found it, it was as if there was something moist and sticky on the outside of the tin foil.
Clueless, I took a peek into my pack and discovered... a mini swamp. My magazines were drowning into a misterious goo, one was completely submerged while the other desperately held on to the inner side of the backpack. My apple was floating, bobbing on a lake of dark puss.
It was then that I discovered the remnants of what had once been a fresh, tasty, yellow banana. About a week ago. Now it was the rotting, smelly, blackened dead carcas of a banana. The skin had succommed to the pressure of the magazines and my sandwiches, and the festering mass at the inside had exploded and flooded the bottom of my pack.
At work, it took me half an hour to clean out the inside of the bag with paper towels. First, I had to get rid of the banana-corpse, which was no mean feat. It desperately clinged to the underside while I vigorously shaked the bag over the dustbin. Luckily, no-one came into the toilets, I felt enough of an idiot without any spectators.
This weekend, that pack has an appointment with the washing machine.