A Bowl of Pears

The firm for which I work was holding an all-day seminar about changing work place culture and to make the environment more welcoming, the front of our building was decked out with large bowls of fruit including pears, which I rarely see at work functions.  Pears may be my favorite fruit, and if not favorite, they’re at least top shelf along with bananas, Granny Smith apples, and clementine oranges.  I enjoy them more than most people and it’s also the only fruit I like overripe.  I’ll eat a banana when it has the consistency of a plantain but pears need to be tender to the point where they’re bruised by light pokes and braising insults.  Each time I walked by the lobby two more pears disappeared into my lab coat and I racked up about 16 by the end of the day.  After the seminar series was over, I talked to my coworkers who, on the whole, thought the event went better than expected and “didn’t involve falling asleep too much”.  The visit probably cost us in the mid-six figures from what I gather but to me it was entirely worth it because of new pear stockpile.  The rest of my firm got life-affirming advice and the tools to become the best person they could be.  They can keep that.  I have pears.