The gesture was great, and the ears of corn were beautiful – Monsanto couldn’t dream up anything that bright, that golden, and that succulent-looking. Each ear was about as big as my forearm; drool pooled in my mouth.
“I’ll boil this corn right up!”
“It’s only 11:30 in the morning….” my boyfriend protested.
“I’m eating this at American lunch-time. It’s exquisite!”
My boyfriend shook his head, he knew me well enough to question my questionable eating habits.
“How long does that take to cook?”
“I don’t know, about twenty minutes….” I was transfixed by the perfectly shaped kernels under the boiling water. I stepped closer.
“Don’t get burned…”
I hate obvious corrections.
“Steam is good for the skin.” And I piggishly stood my ground.
Twenty minutes passed and I greedily pulled an ear of corn out of the water. I blew on it so I could bite in without burning my mouth; I placed my teeth around the generous curve of the cob and bit down. I tried to bite down but my teeth didn’t even dent the corn.
“Needs a few more minutes….” I reasoned. I let the corn boil another ten minutes. The kernels still resisted.
“Longer…?” questioned my boyfriend.
“Another twenty, maybe.” I decided.
My boyfriend fell asleep. I watched the pot of corn. Twenty more minutes passed. Titanium kernels. Twenty more minutes on top of that - I was flushed from hovering over the steaming pot.
“Hey, hey!” I called to my boyfriend “Where did you get this corn anyways?”
“That corn? From Pedro…”
“You mean Pedro who has the cows and pigs?”
“So, this is animal corn.”