I Can't Stand You, Cantaloupe

I am a great many things, but one thing I am absolutely not is a picky eater. I've finished Thai salads that I've found glass in (Spice, University Place), polished off a Chicken Tikka Masala dish that had hair in it (Ghandi Cafe, Bleecker St.), and tried everything from cactus to crocodile.

In fact, I'm so unpicky that I've only used the H word with two foods: tomatoes and cantaloupe. The former I positively hated for twenty-four years - until two summers ago when my mom made me a tomato sandwich with Beefsteaks from our garden. Now I'm absolutely hooked!

And then there was one. No matter how many times I've tasted it (and believe me, I've put forth a valiant effort), cantaloupe is the only provision I despise. Yes, you pitiful little cantaloupe, I simply can't stand you. For so many reasons I don't even know where to begin! Oh, why not with your ugly ass skin:

There is nothing beautiful about you - you don't have the shape of a starfruit or the colors of a mango. Your exterior is so boring it doesn't even deserve a description. You are the color of nothing, nada, nichts, nill. Your bumpy, contusion-clad surface is creepy and contrived (you probably thought to yourself, "Oh I'm such a boring, awful, bland looking fruit, I need some sort of sensory appeal! Why not make myself have a bumpy, scratchy surface?" BLEH!!) You resemble nothing other than a reticulated rock.

As to the edible part, the flesh. Ugh! I will say that orange is one of my favorite colors. I thoroughly enjoy all things orange:

- Orange soda comes in third place as my most fave pop (a very difficult decision, came down to a coin toss), right behind root beer and Diet Coke with Lime

- Cheese balls you are DELICIOUS...you poor, underrated, oft-forgotten cousins of the damn Doodle

- When the whim to be healthy strikes, I enjoy carrots (especially those of the mini or matchstick variety)

- I find Goldfish vastly pleasing, both the edible version and the pet (plus 10 for being so easy to take care of; minus 50 for dying after, like, a day)

- I am huge fan of Essie's Mini Shorts nail polish AND I just scored a super cute Theory dress at a sample sale - 'tis orange, obvi!

All things orange are, in fact, pretty fantabulous. So whhhhy can't the inside of a cantaloupe be a more vile. revolting color - like sky blue or pea green? You spoil the color orange for me, stupid cantaloupe. You really do.

Alas, ruination aside, it's really the smell and taste of a cantaloupe that I find most abominable.

My mother unfortunately does not share in my loathing of this...this thing that calls itself a fruit. When I visit CT in the summatime, I often enjoy reading on the back porch in the company of my delightful pet pooch, Cooper. He's very chill and has excellent manners. Sometimes, though, if the breeze blows ever so slightly and I catch a whiff of sewage, I'll snap at my dog in disbelief: "Cooper, how could you? I can't believe you would fart in my presence!" I scold. Coop looks at me, rolls his eyes, then looks to the table where, sure enough, my mom has set out a couple of cantaloupes to ripen. Silly me - Cooper is a gentleman! My olfactory organs were not assaulted by a little doggie toot but rather by that stupid, reeking, ripening melon. (Coop then requires five or so pieces of cheese as compensation for the mislaid blame, which I gladly dispense.)

Seriously, why do cantaloupes smell so atrocious? The scent they emit is repellent, repulsive, repugnant. I really do not understand how - HOW - anyone that gets close enough to smell them can actually put it in their mouth and chew.

But honestly, the thing that most bothers me about stupid cantaloupe is its presence in fruit salads. IT IS NOTHING BUT A FILLER FRUIT. It ruins (absolutely ruins!!) the pineapple, grapes, strawberries, kiwis - even its brethren the watermelon and honeydew - everything ends up tasting like the moldy, soapy, nail polishy poison that is cantaloupe. Ugh! See what I mean:

That's how every fruit salad is made - you can see how the nice, delicious, innocent fruits are placed on TOP of the cantaloupe. It's a bowl of cantaloupe, stupid filler fruit, topped with the good stuff. Gross.

This is a quandary I fear will never be answered. The cantaloupe and I are at an impasse. I guess the only thing I can do is to avoid the fruit salad at picnics.