I never thought I’d find love in a grocery store, of all places, but life has a funny way of surprising you when you least expect it.
There I was, standing in the produce section, having an intense internal debate about whether I should buy the slightly bruised avocados that were on sale or splurge on the perfect ones, when I heard someone chuckling behind me. I turned around to find a handsome guy watching me as I muttered to myself and squeezed every single avocado like some sort of deranged fruit detective.
“You know,” he said with an amused smile, “I think you’ve given those avocados more attention than most people give their significant others.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, at least these avocados won’t ghost me after three dates,” I replied, immediately wanting to facepalm at my awkward response.
But he laughed – a genuine, warm laugh that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. “I’m James,” he said, extending his hand.
“I’m Amy,” I replied, then realized my hands were covered in avocado residue. “Um, I’d shake your hand, but…” I wiggled my fingers in the air, and he laughed again.
From there, we ended up walking through the store together, turning grocery shopping into an impromptu comedy show. I made terrible puns about produce (“Orange you glad I didn’t say banana?”), and he countered with equally awful jokes about dairy products. We probably annoyed every other shopper in the store, but I couldn’t have cared less.
The next week, I found myself “accidentally” shopping at the same time, hoping to run into him again. And there he was, this time contemplating different types of pasta with the same intensity I’d shown the avocados.
“You know,” I said, mimicking his words from our first meeting, “I think you’ve given that spaghetti more attention than most people give their significant others.”
Our grocery store meetings became a weekly thing. We’d pretend it was completely coincidental, even though we both knew better. Sometimes we’d spend an hour just walking up and down the aisles, making each other laugh with ridiculous observations and bad jokes.
One day, while we were debating the merits of different cereal mascots (I firmly believed the Trix Rabbit deserved better), James suddenly turned to me and said, “You know, we should probably have dinner sometime. With actual food, not just shopping for it.”
“I don’t know,” I replied, trying to keep a straight face. “What if you turn out to be one of those people who puts pineapple on pizza?”
“What if I am?” he challenged, grinning.
“Then I’ll have to report you to the Italian authorities for crimes against pizza.”
He clutched his chest in mock horror. “Worth the risk,” he said, and pulled out his phone to get my number.
Our first real date was at a small Italian restaurant, where he deliberately ordered a pineapple pizza just to see my reaction. I retaliated by eating it with a knife and fork, watching him cringe with every precise cut.
Months later, when he asked me to move in with him, he did it in the grocery store where we first met. He’d arranged for the staff to create a display of avocados spelling out “Move in with me?” I said yes, of course, after I finished laughing and crying simultaneously.
Now, whenever people ask how we met, I tell them it was an avocado that brought us together. They usually look confused until I explain, and then they either think it’s adorable or completely ridiculous. Probably both.
The funny thing is, I still can’t pick out a ripe avocado to save my life. But James can. He says it’s because he had to learn quickly to impress me, though we both know that’s not true. I was already impressed by his willingness to endure my terrible produce puns and join in with his own.
Sometimes love finds you in the most ordinary places, between the fruits and vegetables, while you’re just trying to figure out how to adult properly. And sometimes, it turns out that the perfect person for you is the one who will spend an hour in a grocery store, making terrible jokes and turning everyday errands into adventures.
As for those avocados from our first meeting? I never did buy them. But I got something much better instead.