Recently, I have become associated with bananas. Needless to say, being affiliated with a fruit of such phallic proportions has been disastrous for my reputation and has all but obliterated my ambition of becoming Prime Minister. (I know my surname isn't Lee, but hey, one is entitled to one's dreams.)

Episode One
It started one morning when Tanty offered me a banana. No girl had ever offered me one before and I told her so.

“You want banana?”, she had enquired.

“No girl has ever asked me that before!”, was my honest reply.

For some reason, this elicited much mirth from Valentia and subsequently most of the creative department.

Episode Two
When two girls launch into a lengthy discourse on the merits of various types of bananas within earshot of an immensely bored male copywriter, it is akin to entrapment.

It suffices to say that the statement that brought me to my knees in tears (and into the trap) was “I like Del Monte bananas. They're long and firm.”

And then there were the usual accusing looks, the blatant disregard for my counter-arguments and disparaging comments about my state of mind.

Episode Three
The bananas were four days old by now and growing splotches at an alarming rate. We thus endeavoured to finish them. This is when I made the mistake of offering Tanty one. “I don't want those bananas now. They're soft already.”, she scoffed. Naturally, I laughed.

Repeat last para of previous episode.

Stuck
Anyway, everything's gone bananas now. Literally. I say I'm hungry, they say “You want banana?” I say I don't want candied ginger, they say “Too bad. We don't have any bananas.” I attend a cocktail party, they politely enquire “Banana with your punch?” Soon they'll be offering me grapes by the pairs just to see what'll happen.