What *is* that thing??

I went shopping yesterday. More precisely, I fought my way through the hordes of retiree tourists, Japanese, and old women to buy fruit and vegetables at the market, trying to keep the inevitable sausage-eaters from staining my white blouse (these people buy a sausage and then remain standing in the middle of the path, and then act surprised and drip katchup on you if you try to get through). Yes, it is twice as expensive as our local discounter, but if I have the choice between an unsprayed, fresh salad from someone's garden and some vacuum-packed thing from Aldi, I'll take the former. And it's cherry season, so you can buy a pound of cherries for about two dollars, which I did, along with a kilo of tomatoes and two apricots, packing my purchases into my backpack.

I ate the apricots (mmmmmm) and met a friend for lunch, and we looked for jeans for her, got ice cream, and went grocery shopping. In Germany, you pay for your plastic bag, which is doubly irritating as you probably have fifteen bags at home (for which you have paid) if you have to buy a new one. I, however, have a backpack, and I manage to just fit everything but the salad and the four pounds of apples I bought. One would be astounded how much is possible to transport by bicycle--I've seen everything from carpets to computers--and it is usual for me to ride home from the store with bags dangling from my handlebars.

As I am mostly home and am locking up my bike, I notice that my back is moist, the lower part where my jeans meet my blouse. Moist, moist....ok, something must have leaked. I bought a yoghurt, that could be it. That would really be a mess. I, hunched over to hopefully avoid dripping whatever it is everythere, stumble up the stairs to my apartment and unload my groceries.

The part where I had gone to the market and bought cherries is the part I had forgotten while packing my kilos of carrots and nectarines in my backpack, and my produce managed to press my formerly gorgeous little cherries, and it was cherry juice that was leaking. Scheiße.

I can handle this, I think, and take off my (formerly) white blouse to soak (it now has red streaks on the back), clean up the backpack, change my shirt.... and notice the huge purple blotch on my lower back, ending in a tidy line where my jeans were. It looks like I'd been beaten severely...by cherries!