that this banana is $1.46. Do you still want it?”

I looked at her quizzically. When someone begins a sentence with the words, “I’m required to tell you…” I expect time sensitive or potentially life altering information to follow. In my world, the price of bananas is neither.

I nodded. “Yes, I still want it.” This was my dinner, along with a quart of water, on my way to Portland. Terminal one has slim pickings as far as eateries are concerned.

She smiled as she rung up my purchase. “Just think, one day you’ll be able to tell your grandchildren that you paid $1.46 for a banana!”

Again, I looked at her quizzically. First of all, that’s a huge assumption that I’ll even have grandchildren. Secondly, an even larger assumption that I’ll be telling them about the price of bananas. “Thanks,” I muttered as she handed me my change.

The businessman in the pressed suit behind me also had a banana. “I’m required to tell you…” she began.

He interrupted, “I still want it. I know it costs $1.46.”

She rang him up. I turned to face him and in all seriousness said, “You, too, will be able to tell your grandchildren you paid $1.46 for a banana.”

He burst out laughing. Happy times at SFO.