Avocado Refusal

One avocado, just one green sphere,

and the machine's red eye, burning near.

I slid it past, it made no sound,

just 'unexpected item', all around.

Again, again, the laser bounced,

the plastic bag, so loudly pounced

on empty air. 'Please try again', it whined,

a simple fruit, left far behind.

The line grew long, my face grew hot,

a tiny war, on this cursed spot.

Just want to pay, just want to go,

but this green lump, it says no, no, no.

Stuck here with this stubborn, perfect food.

Misunderstood.