Great Grapefruit (College Application Essay)

I stood at my post, shifting the back boxes to the front and adding a new box in the back. Peaches are a nuisance to stock. My arms ached and my hands were filled with splinters from the bulky wooden crates that held the peaches. A peach slipped through my hand and skittered under my cart. Cursing at the slimy fruit for rebelling against my careful caresses, I reached down, grabbed the peach, and stood back up. In the process of standing, I forcefully knocked my head on the handle of the cart. As anger fully consumed me, I noticed that I had again lost my name tag. Knowing that my boss would be angry to see that I was not wearing my name tag, I quickly pulled my cart behind me into the back storage rooms to search for the tag. However, halfway there I realized that, without my name tag, my boss would not know who she was scolding and would not be able to hold a grudge. I turned my cart back in the direction of my fruit to finish stocking the rest of the items on my cart. With my quick turnaround came a moment of chaos. One customer sped past me, but another customer wheeled his cart recklessly toward me. I swerved my cart quickly to avoid this dangerous driver and felt my cart eat my heel. Again. I had thought that the previous scars on my heels from the exact same accidents would have prevented the damage that was done. But, I was wrong. Blood seeped through my sock and drenched my shoe. Mortified, and realizing that cart maneuverability is not my talent in life, I returned to my fruit station.

I turned my attention to the grapefruit this time, trying to distract myself from my shame. I removed the delicate round fruit carefully, one at a time. I gently placed each beautiful sphere in a box, then began to remove the new ones from another box. I was repulsed to see a shocking white, shriveled grapefruit with specks of neon blue and gray fuzz. I quickly removed the rotten fruit, hoping no customers saw the disgusting produce they were about to buy. I found a few more like this, which I should have expected since summer is not citrus season. Still, I was thoroughly surprised at the rotten nature of the usually pristine grapefruit.

Finally, I found an impeccable one. I rolled the smooth sunset toned fruit over my hands, admiring the lack of flaws, the utter perfection of such a gorgeous fruit. I delicately balanced the grapefruit on the top of the pyramid of mediocre grapefruits I had already stacked. I stepped back and took in my work. It was phenomenal. I mean, not to toot my own horn, but I had just created a grand waterfall that spilled from the back of the cooler to the front, each grapefruit evenly displayed. I created the infrastructure in such a manner that no customer could demolish my creation even with a ruthless touch. This display transcended the mundane fruit. This intricate pile of lackluster grapefruit topped by the quintessential grapefruit represented the complex world before me. And I felt that I had already mastered it. Within the citrus aisle, I realized I had become an adult. I was able to differentiate, to organize, to build a solid foundation. I learned that to stand tall and be noticed, you need others to lift you. Still entranced by my work, I looked down to take out a sheet of paper from my apron and write down what needed stocked next. While grappling through the endless depths of my pocket, my finger jabbed a sharp plastic corner. I clasped my fingers around my name tag. It had been in my pocket all along.