Mission 1: Get free fruit
Around noon on my first day, I happen by a fruit stand in New York’s Financial District. Pregnancy cravings are real: when I see or hear about food, I need it. If you were to utter the word pancakes, say, I’d immediately want pancakes. In fact, having now just written the word pancakes, I want pancakes. But right now I’m paralyzed by the colorful array of bananas, cherries, and avocados arranged before me. But can I really blame the baby for what I’m about to do? Does this make me a bad mother, even before I’ve become one?
I approach the seller, my hands resting conspicuously on my belly.
“Excuse me,” I say, “but is there any chance that you’d offer a free apple to a pregnant woman?”
The man stares at me with a look that says, "Surely you are joking." I thrust my stomach out a little further and try to look faint. And the man is trapped.
“What do you want?” he finally says, resigned.
“Um, an apple?” My voice sticks in my throat.
“Which one?” He nods at the row of red, yellow, and green apples.
He shrugs, but he doesn’t do anything. Clearly, if I want this apple, I’m going to have to take it from him. Steal it, basically. So I do. I snatch a green apple, thank him, and waddle away as fast as my belly will let me. I have saved a quarter and bankrupted my dignity.
Value: Abatement of pre-lunch hunger pains, $.25