Generally speaking, the main purpose of food consumption is to satiate appetite and overcome the uncomfortable, often distracting sensation that is hunger. We calm hormonal cravings for chocolate; we cure hangovers with high-sugar, high-salt junk. One should, however, not dismiss the possibility of certain foodstuffs’ pleasure-enhancing assets. Specifically, in the sex department.
It was at the tender age of 13, during my first appointment ever with a gynecologist, that I was urged to beware of bananas.
It turned out that a girl my age (then) had read an article in a sex education column, which mentioned a series of foods one could use in an effort to induce orgasms. Listed, of course, were the multiple uses of the banana. Used to consuming bananas in their peeled form, the girl peeled a particularly green banana she had recently purchased, in the hope that its unripe-ness would prevent it from breaking, and began her mission under warm, naïve, teenage bed sheets. The entry of the exotic fruit into her innocent yet curious vagina was smooth and felt good. Once she attempted to move said fruit around a little, in her search for heightened sexual pleasure, she soon learned that she had been wrong about her theory on unripe bananas. The movements on the inside of her eager inner regions weren’t corresponding to those on the outside: the banana had broken. She immediately ran to the bathroom, lay on the cold tiles in front of the fortunately full-length mirror and spread her skinny legs as wide as she could. (Spreading her legs was not something she had had reason to practice too much at this age.) To her surprise and relief, she was able to empty her love tunnel of its fruity contents. Mission accomplished. Or so she thought.
The days that followed revealed a consistently growing odour of ever-riper banana coming from “down there”. One day, the aroma had grown so ripe, and the shame and panic so great, our protagonist plucked up the courage to call on her gynaecologist – requesting help and a judgement-free zone. The doctor obliged most kindly, before asking her patient to prevent further such banana-related mishaps by spreading her story as much (if anonymously) as possible. Which she did, telling – among many others, I’m sure – me. And so I thank you, anonymous banana girl. You have surely saved many a vagina from truly ripe disasters.
Photography: Maxime Ballesteros