You’ve being exiled to a private island, and your captors will only supply you with five foods. What do you pick?
“I’m not playing their game. Not today … not any day,” Gertrude announced to the rather large strawberry she was dipping into a warm vat of melted dark chocolate. “All these restrictions … I’m really rather bored with it.”
She popped the chocolate-covered berry into her mouth and savoured its warm, bittersweet taste. To her left an array of fresh fruit awaited her pleasure. Banana, pineapple, mango … a food group ~ one of five she’d negotiated.
The health spa had offered to provide a basket of food for a picnic but would only include five foods.
“What do you mean only five foods?'” Gertrude wanted to know. “That’s simply ridiculous! I’m a guest on this private island, not a captive! Now, I’ve paid good money to get away from it all and I want a picnic basket with five food groups. Am I clear?”
“But madame, isn’t that the same thing?” the handsome spa concierge asked, bewildered.
“Not at all!” Gertrude’s fuse was shortening. “I want a selection of fresh fruit to dip in a vat of melted dark chocolate to be delivered to a location of my choice; a selection of fresh vegetables with a side of hummus; a triple-cream brie with a fresh French baguette; a good quality Argentinian Malbec, and a bottle of spring water. Is that too much to ask?”
“But that’s more than five food groups, madame.”
“It is? No matter. I never was any good at math.” Gertrude stood firm. “That’s what I want. If it isn’t included in my spa package, add it to my bill. That is all.”
Gertrude smiled at the memory of her little victory as she cast her gaze out to the warm, rippling ocean, and reached absently for a piece of fruit. She dipped it into the dark melted chocolate. It escaped.
“Damn and blast!” she cursed, and grabbed a silver fork from the wicker picnic basket to fish it out.
“Never trust pineapple … bad pineapple,” she sighed as she finally managed to jab the fork into its side. She allowed the excess chocolate to drip back into the vat before carefully slipping the errant fruit into her mouth. “Hmmmm … good pineapple ….” Gertrude swooned, dropping the fork and flopping into the blanket that covered the bit of beach under what had become her favourite shade palm.
Above her she noticed a bunch of coconuts hovering precariously.
“Oh, I forgot about you …” she smiled. “I’ll include you in tomorrow’s five food groups.”
Thanks for visiting …
©Dorothy Chiotti … Aimwell CreativeWorks 2015