I buy bananas from the banana shop.

I used to buy bright yellow bananas, but gave up doing that. By the time you've got home, your bright yellow bananas will have gone spotty and soft, and in the final part of the journey you will have been hotly pursued by a small cloud of fruit flies which have been attracted by the unmistakeable smell of putrefying banana wafting from your carrier bag.

I don't like bananas which have gone so soft that you can break off the end and squeeze out the contents like toothpaste.

I like my bananas to be firm. I like to be able to unpeel it, and have the fruit inside remain erect, and for it not to subside like a post-coital todger and then fall soggily on to the floor.

I've tried buying unripe bananas. Green bananas. That way they last a bit longer - only a few hours, usually - but what happens if you are smitten with an insatiable craving for a banana before they have ripened?

You might as well try to eat a wooden tent peg.

And even that's assuming you can prise it from its Mil-spec Aerospace-grade Multi-role combat skin.

So you leave them for a little while to ripen.

You watch them carefully, checking their colour and gently palpating them from time to time in the hope of discovering the optimum moment to snap one from the bunch, lasciviously unpeel it, and enjoy its tropical rudenesses.

You might think you could do that. You might keep a security camera trained on your bananas, and watch them like a hawk-eyed security guard for that elusive moment of ripeness.

But you will miss it.

You will.

Your attention will slip for a moment. You may sneeze, or you may look away for a split second.

And in that split second, your bananas will go black and turn to mush.

I love a banana, but they are a very trying fruit.

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