stop draggin my, stop draggin my, stop draggin my fruit around

My fruit credo is that fruit is always great if someone else has already chopped it up for me. So when the woman training a new cashier at Asia Market a few weeks ago offered me a small container with wedges of an unknown sliced up fruit for a dollar I said yes. I asked her what it was called but couldn't understand her reply. Mike and I ate it right there in the parking lot. Mildly sweet, seedy, definitely thirst-quenching, with a small hint of bean sprouts. Not terrible.

Then the other day I was posting painting photos here. I always type in my own alt-image descriptions — the hidden text that goes with each image to tell the world of web-robots what’s in your picture. Of course, now they already know beforehand. It’s kind of creepy. They give me a suggestion, and it’s often uncannily correct. I try not to think too much about the implications. But guess what they told me about this painting detail?

“Close-up of a pink dragon fruit with black seeds on a textured surface.” Dragonfruit. Thank you creepy robots I guess, for answering questions I didn't even ask them.