[ WP ] A guy finds the perfect avocado

I ’ ve been here 10 minutes and I ’ m no closer to finding it. Hmm too soft, too brown, too hollow? Too green, too small. This one seems okay. I assess it by holding it firmly in my hand and throwing it up slightly, pressing my thumb and fingers around its skin. Hmm no. Just on the ripe side. I put it back down and return to the crate. I ’ m bending over it now, reaching up in the back corners, desperately turning over avocado after avocado. My options are dwindling and time is running out. I still have bananas and potatoes to go and the shop shuts in 15 minutes. I can hear the roller shutters coming down. A loud-static voice tells me I need to go in 10 minutes. 
 
 
 It ’ s getting hot. I can feel heat in my face and a pressure rising in my chest. My heart is pounding, my thoughts become trapping rather than helpful. Do I need it for now or later? Perhaps a hard one would be good? No it needs to be ripe but not too ripe. I abandon my pick, letting it drop out of my limp hand and into the crate with the others. For a moment I ’ m completely blank, but my head is buzzing. I look down to the front again. Perhaps I missed some gems. I try another few. Okay this one: Mr-slightly-too-soft-but-green. 
 
 
 Someone has approached the crate. I turn to see a woman looking directly at me. Her brightness; blue eyes, yellow coat and a look of concern mixed with laughter about to bubble over shock me and I drop it: the one I ’ ve picked. I inwardly sigh. Now I ’ ll have to start again. 
 
 
 Here, she says. This one looks good. 
 
 
 It ’ s the first one she picks up. I take it from her, careful not to connect fingers. I haven ’ t let my gaze drop and I watch her eyes taking me in. I hold the fruit, turning it gently but forcefully in my hand. I finally look down at it. It ’ s a perfect deep green, no bruising or scarring and it has a plump firmness I didn ’ t know was possible. I look up and she ’ s still there, an amused smile in her eyes. I realise I ’ m no longer hot but all I can manage is a brisk thanks. It really is perfect. 
 
 
 No problems she says, a wide grin growing on her face before walking off. 
 
 
 I turn to look back at her and I smile. I can ’ t stop smiling. I feel elated. I look down at the avocado in my hand, and back at her yellow coat just disappearing around the isle. Yellow, I love yellow, almost as much as I love green. 

