For a time, I was living in a studio apartment in New York’s East Village. One evening, I was sitting on my couch with my laptop perched atop me. I had meant to go to the gym but instead, I was wasting time. And then I remembered I had a coconut in the fridge. You know that feeling when you have a coconut in the fridge? It’s a project waiting to happen. Fuck yeah, I thought, now is the perfect time to have me some coconut. But how? This was a hard-shelled coconut, which I had never opened before.

Then I remembered I had a meat knife. That should do the trick. So, I got the meat knife and started hacking, gently at first, then increasingly forcefully. But I was making no progress. Finally, I whacked it so hard that a dime-sized piece of the knife broke off and flew across the room. I could have gone blind right there! My aorta could have been pierced! I guess that’s the rush you’re gambling on when you buy a coconut without a plan.

Then I remembered I had a hammer. So, I got my hammer and tapped on the coconut. Nothing. I tapped harder. Still nothing. I went at it until, finally, a crack appeared. I turned the coconut upside down, and out came the cold, clear water. I had a sip. I felt satisfied. But I felt I could be more satisfied.

Then I remembered I had a water bong. I got the bong, poured some of the coconut water into the bong, smoked a bowl, and convinced myself it tasted like coconut. Fuck yeah, I thought. This is the smartest I have ever been.