There’s an ad on my banana. Nope, not the beginning of a bad joke. There is actually an advertisement printed on a sticker and stuck to the skin of my bananas. It’s for pre-made, frozen peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, the idea of which is only slightly less horrible than the idea that even tropical fruit has been turned into a billboard.

I think this is the sort of thing that pushes people over the edge, people who end up in shacks in Montana without running water or electricity. Family members will talk amongst themselves, try to understand. And then one will say, “It was the banana that did it. The banana was the last straw.”