Just as when Proust's narrator (barely a narrator) eats the madeleine cake in Rembrance of Things Past, and it starts him down memory lane, when I ate a kiwi this morning it made me laugh: I was remembering a friend's story from college: he had just begun his freshman year and he was a member of ROTC, the Sergeant told him to make sure his boots were black for the first meeting, and to use some Kiwi on them . . . and so he went to the store and purchased several kiwis and attempted to polish his boots with them, smashing them into the boots until he made a juicy, citrus mess, which made th boots no blacker; unfortunately his girlfriend had to break the news to him that Kiwi was a brand of shoe polish.
2 comments:
military genius.
he left soon after . . . too smart.
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