How to peel an orange

 

1. Go to the store and get an orange

2. Wash your hands

3. Wash them again 

4. Make sure you’ve cleaned the grime out from under your nails. It is disgusting to deposit grime in your orange. Or someone else's orange, should you be peeling an orange to gift to someone else. Imagine what’s under your nails. Dirt, bacteria, dead skin cells that belong to various strangers or contaminated objects you have touched. There might be various fluids, rotting food and/or sauce. Gross. 

5. Plunge your thumbnail into the skin of the orange. Puncture it. (Make sure to use enough force to break the skin). Do not use too much force. You don’t want orange juice to squirt in your eye. Or the eye of another, should you be in the presence of another living being. It burns. 

6. Lift a flap of the orange peel, and simultaneously put your thumb under the peel and your index finger on the outside of the peel, working your way around the orange. It (should) will begin to form a spiral.

7. Should your process be interrupted by a call from Sheila, your recent ex-wife, you let the call go to voicemail.

8. You return to the orange. Should your phone ring again with a call from Sheila, you think ‘what the fuck could she need in this moment?’ You let the call go to voicemail. 

9. You return back to the orange, peeling away the layer meticulously to maintain the spiral shape. Should your dog start barking, you will have to stop. In the case that he won’t stop barking, you might realize you have forgotten to feed the dog. Should Sheila have been here, she would’ve fed the dog at 5:37am, not a minute before, or after. Sheila is not here. You have to put down the orange, walk over to the dog bowl, and put food in the bowl. 

10. You walk back to the orange. Should the doorbell ring by the thumb of your neighbor Tim, you must let out a sigh. You vehemently hate Tim. You must answer the door. You walk over to the door. You answer the door. Tim is asking to borrow a teaspoon of sugar for his tea because he ran out. You think, ‘is Tim serious? Steal a paper sugar packet from the diner next store like a normal human.’ You close the door in his face.

11. You head towards the orange. You keep in mind tht you have a tea kettle on the stove. Should your tea pot whistle, it might be a sign that your water is ready. It whistles. You decide it can wait a minute. You return to the orange and continue to chug away at its peel. The tea kettle starts to rattle and shake. Should Sheila have been here, she would’ve poured two cups of tea in two separate mugs. Sheila is not here to pour the tea. When she was, she liked the dog mug, you liked the flamingo mug. Those mugs are now shattered, in the garbage can. Using your best judgment, you decide it’s fine, the whistling kettle can wait. You hear a thud; the tea kettle fell on the ground. Boiling water spills everywhere. It is melting your yellow Crocs. Should Sheila have been here, they would’ve been neatly stacked on the shoe rack, next to your neon pink Chacos, where they belong. 

12. You return to the orange, and your dog starts barking again. He doesn’t stop barking. You leave the dog alone. You make more progress on the orange. Your dog keeps barking. You decide to walk over, and find the dog in a vulnerable position; he is peeing on your carpet. Should Sheila have been here, she would’ve taken the dog for a walk promptly at 5:45am. Instead, you forget to walk the dog. You are forgetful. Too forgetful. Probably one of the reasons why she left you. You always forgot.

13. You scold the dog and call him bad. You shed a tear, or two. 

14. You head back to the orange but hear a faucet in the distance. You hear a splash and head in its direction. Should Sheila have been here, she would’ve been washing her face with a butter & rose face wash. The smell would have floated into the kitchen by now. Yet the bathroom sink has overflown and is spilling onto the ground. Oh no. You run to find something to plug the spigot with. You find a door stopper. You run to your mechanical room to shut off the water. 

15. You walk back to the orange and find that you have forgotten to turn the stove off from the tea. A local towel has caught on fire. Oh no. You run over to the water spout to collect a glass and put out the fire but alas the water is off. You grab another thick towel and assault the fire. 

16. You look at the orange longingly. The fire alarm goes off. You continue to beat the fire with your towel. It goes out and you begin to fan the fire alarm. It stops

17. You tiptoe over to the orange and your iPhone alarm goes off. It is time to leave for work. You have not yet successfully peeled the orange. Sheila always wanted you to learn to peel the orange that way, like her Dad used to do. He had passed a few years earlier. You said you would do it, but never got around to it. You never got around to anything, really. Now, Sheila is gone. It is your fault. You begin to cry and you throw your phone across the room. The orange sits on the counter, ¼ peeled.