So I got a large jar of coconut oil. Coconut oil is always tricky. It’s without exception already somewhat rancid except for in very rare cases in which case it is delicious. Someone stellar in determining rancidity pointed it out to me when I had some and taught me to decipher minimal cues of rancidity. As while fresh oils are very good for the brain, rancid oils will defect the latter.

We had one by this company which was fresh. We’re out so I got a new one without checking the expiration date. The date was way too early once I arrived home I saw it was in two months. I still opened the jar. As expected, initially it tasted fresh and after the oil moved toward your digestive system, a light burning from rancidness remained. It took skill to discern.

When I returned it two people refused to honor my return. The younger customer service representative said “Nothing is wrong with it. We tasted it”

Now, do I tell a high-sensitivity computer analysis that it’s wrong since I can’t examine the material nor read that there is a virus? No.

I gave it back to her because there was nothing I could do with it. I can’t use it. It was heavy. I was upset. So I brought it up to two more workers in the store. They understood. One brought the woman back. But she argued that her sensitivity was more developed than mine. “My boss tasted it too, we both agree it’s not rancid.”

“But I do taste that it’s rancid.” I said. Do you claim your own sensitivity above someone whose inferior sensitivity cannot read the subtleties of a rancid oil? Yes.

I told her to keep the jar, and added the receipts. As she didn’t want them, they dropped. I walked toward the exit, but she called me back and said that her boss would come and explain that they were right.

I read Tibetan and Hebrew. I knew he’d keep my gift of jar receipt with my payment from yesterday.