"Celery tastes like water, I don't see why anyone would eat it."
"It's crunchy!" I say. Margaret glares at me and starts to scowl. "Also, it's good in stir-fry." Her scowl sharpens. I think the giddiness in my voice is getting to her.
"Whatever Mark." She lights a cigarette and pushes her salad away from her. I stab at the grape tomatoes in mine. They squish and explode like tiny little eyeballs.
"Seriously Mark, you're the only person I know that actually likes celery."
I imagine the tomatoes are Margaret's eyeballs for a moment and smile. She keeps smoking.