Wit Stop

WIT STOP My Cold-blooded... uh... Criminal Wife and the Infamous Grapefruit Caper

I've never really liked grape-fruit. It's not that I dislike it. I just can't trust it. That first chunk can be sweet and tasty, or it can be so agonizingly tart that you want to suck your lips back into your sinus cavities. I've tasted the tart too many times to tangle anymore with the oversize citrus. Grapefruit, though, has taught me one val-uable lesson: you never really know a person until you've smuggled fruit with them.My wife and I recently en-joyed a pleasant three-day visit with friends in the Phoenix area. My wife, who loves grapefruit, had half of one each morning for breakfast and raved about the flavor. Our hosts picked them off their backyard tree.

When we said our goodbyes, we hugged and kissed and got in our car for the drive home to Los Angeles. As we backed out of the driveway, our host hollered, "Wait!" Then he ran back into the house and came out carry-ing a bag full of grapefruit. "Don't forget these."

My wife accepted the gift through the driver's side window (she was going to drive the first leg of the trip, and I would take over when she tired). She dropped the bag of fruit behind my seat, backed onto the street, made a U-turn, and we were on our way with many fond memories and a bag of fresh home-grown citrus.

The thought struck me as we drove: we have grapefruit in our car, and we have to pass through a fruit inspection station.

I said to my wife, "We have grapefruit in the backseat." She said, "So what?" I said, "You're going to tell them when you get to the checkpoint, aren't you?" She said, "Of course not." "Are you insane?" I said. "Haven't you ever seen Mid-night Express?"

She said, "Don't be ridiculous. What are they going to do to us?"

"Throw us in jail. Put us on a chain gang. Condemn us to hard labor. Didn't you see Cool Hand Luke?"

She said, "Stop being silly." We drove in silence for some time. I fretted. Finally I broke the silence. "You're really not going to tell them, are you?" "Tell who?" she said. "Tell what?"

"Tell about the grapefruit to the agricultural guys." "No," she said, "I'm not going to tell them."

I'd been married to my wife for 36 years, and I never saw this side of her. She was a coldblooded, calculating. uh... criminal.

I thought back to when we drove off from our friends' house. That U-turn she made was illegal. It never fazed her.

I fidgeted, squirmed in my seat, even broke into a nervous sweat. My wife noticed and said, "What the heck is wrong with you?"

Good heavens, she was even starting to talk like a moll.

I said, "I'm worried about the fruit inspection."

She said, "Will you relax? It's only some grapefruit."

But was it only grapefruit? For all I knew she might have had other contraband oranges, prickly pears, whatever - taped to her body. My gosh, I thought, suppose she has a saguaro cactus in the trunk?

What really galled me was how casually she involved me in this escapade. I'm a law abider, always have been. I never videotape, record on audio tape, or even give the score of a major league baseball game to a friend or loved one without the express written permission of the commissioner.

Well, I'd have no part of her scheme. I wouldn't play Clyde to her Bonnie. I resolved that when we got to that inspection station, I'd jump out of the car, throw myself at the official's feet, and turn state's evidence in exchange for immunity. I'd sing like Elvis. I'd tell them everything. Heck, I might even throw in that illegal U-turn from a couple of hours ago. But when we reached the inspection station, I couldn't do it. I sat meek and silent on my side of the vehicle as the official approached the car and said, "Where are you coming from?" My wife said, "Phoenix." He said, "Have a nice day," and waved us through.

We did it! We pulled it off! Frankly, it was exhilarating to get away with something. I even had half a grapefruit the next morning, since I was part of the operation that smuggled them in. It was tart, and I puckered for three days.