“I’ll have a Shirley Temple.” the young girl tells the bartender.
After she has a couple sips, she hands me the cherry. “You want it? I don’t like cherries.” She says to me.
“I don’t like them either, unless they have been canned and dipped in 7/UP.” I reply, as I take the cherry from her hand.
She laughs at my comment, and runs off with her drink.
I put the cherry in my mouth, suck on it for a bit, then rip it off the stem.
Pulling the stem out of my mouth, I take a look at it, and chuckle at all the silly little connotations that come along with this tiny red cherry. It also gives me a quick reminder, that one must prove themselves a good kisser, by tying a cherry stem in a knot, using only one’s tongue.
Curious to put my oral skills to the test,
I decide that i will give this stupid stem tying a go.
I place the stem in my mouth, and without even thinking, I bite it in half.
First angry at myself for not even being able to attempt the task.
But soon realized I was never meant to tie stems in knots.
I’m meant to rip them in two.