“I love Ben, I really do,” Suzanne said, fingering
her bright pink coffee cup. “He’s kind, he’s sweet, he
leaves the toilet seat down. . .”

“. . . But?” Mandy said, leaning over the round
little table set between them, her ears burning for
gossip.

“Well, I, it’s. . .” Suzanne trailed off. “It’s
nothing big he’s doing wrong. It’s. . . the little
things. You know?”

“Absolutely,” Mandy said, nodding eagerly. “Like?”

“Well, for starters, he hates cookies and cream ice-
cream, but he loves sherbet,” Suzanne said. “I mean,
what kind of a man loves sherbet?! He loves to watch
those stupid car races and bo-ring nature shows, he
always has a hideous car magazine in his hand, and he,
of course, has one of those ugly hunks of metal out in
our garage that he spends hours and hours on doing what
he calls ‘restoring’. I mean, come on! Why can’t he
have a life?”

Mandy nodded. “You are so right-on, honey.” Suzanne
looked out the large front window of the coffee-house
they were sitting in and sighed. Mandy sensed she was
holding something back. She needed prodding. “And?”

Suzanne sighed. “Well, I can accept all those
things. I really can. It’s just. . .”

“. . . What?”

“The man won’t. . . eat. . . PINEAPPLES!”

“Huh?”

“He hates pineapples! He won’t touch them! He
doesn’t give me a reason, he just won’t eat them! At
first I could accept it, you know? I mean, marriage is
all about sacrifices, right? I thought maybe I could
mold him into shape over time, but no matter what I do
he won’t eat them! And then I thought, well, all the
more pineapples for me. But I can’t even think
that any more! Pineapples are such an important
part of my life, and I don’t think I can spend the rest
of it with someone who doesn’t feel the same! What
should I do, Mandy?”

“Um, er,” Mandy said, momentarily stunned by
Suzanne’s unfailing love for pineapples, “o-okay. Give
him an ultimatum. Tell him that if he doesn’t start
eating pineapples, you’re going to leave him. And then,
if he still refuses, you’ll make good on your promise.”

“Really?” Suzanne said, wiping tears from her cheeks.
“Are you sure that’s what I should do?”

“Oh, yeah,” Mandy said. “Absolutely, girl.”

#

“Ben?” Suzanne said, crossing her arms over her
chest. “We have to talk.”

“Sure, Hon,” he said. Standing from his chair, he
placed his magazine aside and followed Suzanne into the
kitchen. “What is it?”

“Ben, I’ve been thinking about us,” Suzanne said,
“and I think we need help.”

“What are you talking about, Suze?” Ben said, 
frowning. “We’re doing great! Aren’t we? What’s
wrong?”

“Ben, there are a few things that need to be changed
around here, or I’m going to have to leave you.”

“What?! Suze, what’s this all about?”

“Well, first, there’s that ugly car of yours out in
the garage. It’s such an eye-sore! I can’t hardly show
people the house without thinking that they’re going to
ask about the garage and then see that horrid car!”

“You’re going to leave me over a car?”

“Then there are all those stupid nature shows and car
races you watch! I mean, what about what I want to
watch?”

“Well, if you had just told me you didn’t want to
watch nature shows, you could have --”

“No, no, it’s not really that. It’s. . . well. . .
why don’t you just eat pineapple like a normal guy?!”

Ben’s eyes grew huge and he started backing slowly
away from Suzanne, his hands held up protectively in
front of him. “Whoa, Suzanne. You know I’d do almost
anything for you, but I won’t do that. No way.”

“But it’s not even like you’re allergic to it, Ben!
I mean, come on! I’m not asking you to give up surfing
or skiing or even your ugly car! I just want you to try
pineapple! Just once! If you still hate it I will
never make you eat it again! I promise!”

“But it’s so. . . spiny!” Ben said. “If God wanted
us to eat something, He wouldn’t have put spines on it!”

“Ben,” Suzanne said, “you try pineapple, or I’ll
leave you. I swear. I’ll walk out that door and you
will never ever see me again!”

“But, Honey!”

Suzanne shot up her hand and turned her face. “I
won’t hear another word. Either you try pineapple, or
our marriage is over!”

“But --”

“Not another word!”

#

Ben sat down grimly at the kitchen table, his face
strained and pale. Grabbing up his fork, he clenched it
in a white-knuckle death-grip. Gulping, he took several
deep breaths.

Suzanne approached the table, carrying a ham. She
set it down on the table happily and then went back to
get the pineapple. She brought a plate full of the
sickly yellow fruit over to Ben and set it before him.
Ben looked at the plate, sweat glistening on his
forehead.

“Do I have to?” he squeaked.

“Eat it or I leave you,” Suzanne said.

Ben nodded, took another deep breath, and speared a
piece of pineapple. He closed his eyes and brought the
dripping fruit to his mouth. He removed the fork. He
chewed. He opened his eyes. He chewed again.

“Hey!” he said. “You know, this isn’t bad! It’s
actually pretty good!”

“See?” Suzanne said, laughing. “I knew you’d like
it!”

“I could get used to eating this stuff,” he said,
eating another piece. “This is really good! You were
right, Honey! I should have tried this a long time
ago!”

“I told you! And you’re still alive! God didn’t
strike you dead for eating it! You haven’t been deathly
poisoned! It’s perfectly normal fruit!”

“I was so immature for thinking that something would
happen to me for eating this!” Ben agreed. “In fact,
that’s about the most childish thing I’ve ever thought
up. Evil fruit! Hah! Why, I --”

Suddenly Ben exploded, sending bloody chunks
splattering over Suzanne and effectively ending their
conversation.

The End


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