The cult of freshness

I saw these nifty Tupperware containers

that I thought would be perfect for all the half-cut tomatoes I seem to accumulate and can't really eat quickly enough. So I went to buy a couple (a white for onions and a red for tomatoes). They were at a temporary Tupperware store, set up just for the holidays.

When I got to the cash register, the lady gave me the new catalogue and started telling me about the "great things" in it, and gave me a brochure of the new items. She asked if I had ever hosted a party, and when I answered "no", told me I should talk to my friends about it. She wasn't overly pushy, or salesy - it was more about passing on information. And yet, I could feel the power of the Tupperware cult. Make you ooh and aah over the containers that can go directly from freezer to microwave, and then try to suck you into the party culture. I wasn't having a problem fighting the seduction - Tupperware doesn't turn me on. I was just surprised by the power of the force - I could almost feel the current of the suburban middle-age Tupperware adoration trying to force me deeper and deeper into the store. Sheer will and determination allowed me to escape unscathed. Determined not to behave like a 45 year old woman, I left the store with my new toys. I am far too young to be a follower of the cult of freshness.

When I got home, I used my "forget-me-nots" as bongo drums. Not only do I lack the desire to behave like a middle-aged housewife, I also lack the maturity. And really, that's okay.