Read by Michael Flamel
Ah, the joys of gardening—a pastime I sorely miss, thanks to an incident involving eggplants that left me red-faced and eggplant-less. Let me regale you with the tale of how my green thumb led me down a path of unexpected hilarity and mild embarrassment.
Picture it: graduate school, a time of shared cubicles, overstuffed schedules, and communal poverty. Amidst the chaos, there was Karla, a fellow TA with a penchant for contemporary literature and an affinity for strumming a guitar at parties. Our paths crossed occasionally, mostly at the vegetarian joint where she moonlighted, adding a dash of bohemian flair to my otherwise mundane existence.
Now, onto the garden—my sanctuary amidst the whirlwind of academia. I’d transformed a plot of ground into a vegetable wonderland, complete with tomatoes, peppers, and an abundance of eggplants. Yes, those bulbous purple wonders seemed to mock me with their abundance. Desperate to unload my surplus, I hatched a plan to surprise Karla with my overzealous harvest.
Armed with a bag of eggplants and hope for social interaction, I set off to Karla’s apartment, fueled by equal parts goodwill and naivety. Little did I know, fate had other plans in store.
Upon arrival, I was greeted not by Karla, but by her bewildered roommate, Alice, wrapped in a towel and sporting a look of utter confusion. Undeterred, I proudly presented my eggplant bounty, only to be met with a mix of horror and suspicion. Turns out, my attempt at vegetable generosity had unwittingly cast me as a potential poisoner in Alice’s eyes. Who knew eggplants could be so divisive?
Fast-forward to Monday, and I found myself facing a frosty reception from my fellow TAs, courtesy of my ill-fated eggplant escapade. Karla, in particular, was less than amused, bidding me a curt farewell and effectively closing the door on any potential romance.
As it turns out, my attempt at vegetable matchmaking had spectacularly backfired, leaving me with nothing but bruised pride and a newfound appreciation for the perils of nightshade commentary.
And so ends the tale of the eggplant affair that wasn’t—a cautionary tale for gardeners and romantics alike. ❖
About the Author: Scott D. Vander Ploeg is an emerging writer whose foray into creative writing follows a distinguished career in academia. With a background in Renaissance studies and a penchant for humor, Scott brings a unique perspective to his storytelling. When he’s not penning humorous tales or tending to his literary garden, you can find him snowbirding between Cocoa Beach, FL, and the north suburbs of Chicago, where he enjoys teaching Tai Chi Chuan and indulging in his passion for jazz drumming.