Let Me Ask You Something: How do You Feel About Frilly Toothpicks?

Those of you who appreciated Aaron's shoutout to Mitch Hedberg will certainly appreciate this one, too. For once, though, I must say I ain't FOR 'em (frilly toothpicks, that is).

To tell you the truth, I forgot all about the damn things until the frilly little thang showed up with my tempeh burger.
Thus far, eating at restaurants has turned out to be much easier than I thought it would be. I opt for places that use real silverware (though I do have a camping set in my backpack, just in case), and metal tins for sauces instead of those little plastic things. I've been getting good at ordering small, because I can't leave anything on the plate! (I'm not too into the idea of carrying containers around so I can pack my own leftovers...)

I leave wrapped condiment packets alone, and I don't order anything with bones because I can't compost them. I generally leave with a small wad in my pocket: a crumpled napkin for the burn pile, with that orange peel and parsley garnish for the compost.

Some people question my philosophy on paper napkins. I thought about carrying a cloth napkin around so I wouldn't have to use the paper ones, but I actually need paper mass to start fires with at home. I even use paper towels in the kitchen because otherwise I don't have enough paper to start fires with (my housemates and I read our news and pay our bills online). I figure its better to burn a used paper towel than a fresh one. Plus, I have this feeling they throw unused napkins away anyway if you leave them on the table.

But man, like a frilly toothpick straight to the heart, my mainstay cafe stuck me with some real-life, undeniable trash.

Receipts!!!

Always with the receipts. Every purchase I make comes with a receipt. I bought some sesame sticks the other day and they gave me a foot long receipt, no joke. What am I supposed to do with all of this paper? Sometimes I shred them up and put them in the compost, but they have this weird sheen, so I'm not sure if that's the best idea. I don't have a fireplace and since I decided recycling was out of the question for the Trash Project, I decided to save them all. The pile is growing. Receipts may not rank that high on the scale of ridiculously unnecessary trash, but do we honestly need all of these paper records? To conclude, I leave you with the wise words of Mr. Mitch Hedberg:

"I bought a doughnut and they gave me a receipt for the doughnut. I don't need a receipt for a doughnut. I'll give you the money, you give me the doughnut—end of transaction. We do not need to bring ink and paper into this. I just cannot imagine a scenario where I would have to prove that I bought a doughnut. Some skeptical friend—"Don't even act like I didn't get that doughnut—I got the documentation right here! Oh wait, it's back home in the file…under 'D'…for doughnut."

It Was the Strangest Thing...

I was sitting on the couch talking to a friend on the phone, when suddenly water started spewing out of the cupboard above my stove. I mean just pouring. It was falling in sheets onto the hood and from there pooling on the range. Did a pipe break? was my only thought until suddenly the flow started to taper off, and then, drip... drip... it stopped.

Did a big hunk of ice fall through the roof and drain a bunch of snowmelt into the kitchen?

When I got closer, I realized that the stuff wasn't water. It was a little thicker than water. A little yellower... a little oilier. And in fact, it was canola oil. The thick glass bottle had spontaneously fissured horizontally, ALL THE WAY AROUND the middle. The bottle was still standing, looking pretty well in tact, but when I reached for it, the top half lifted right off the bottom. Nothing else was touching it, either - no evidence that anything had fallen on it. I've never seen anything like it in my life.

What does this have to do with the Trash Project? Two things:

1. It wasn't a canola oil bottle. It was a Crown Royal Whiskey bottle that I had filled with canola oil in the bulk section. Suddenly I found myself wondering if this was some sort of strange sign... somebody trying to challenge me on the trash-free thing. This bottle has quite a story behind it. It was a holiday gift from my uncle, mostly for the "ski goggle sack" that it comes in, or so said Uncle Dave... The bottle went to Chile and back with me, unopened. When it finally got consumed, it made a friend of mine really really really really sick. That same friend was on the phone with me when the bottle broke. Spooky...


2. I just increased my trash accumulation volume by like 10,000%. Broken glass is not only useless, but also dangerous, and most cities won't recycle it (because of the hazard to employees).


I should mention that up to this point, I've been carrying my trash accumulation around in the useful "ski goggle sack" that the Crown Royal bottle came in - yet another strange coincidence - and until the broken bottle, I only had 4 tiny things in it, weighing in at just over an ounce all together:

• A little tag that came on a bunch of organic kale. I thought it was paper when I bought it, but when I tore it from the re-usable twist-tie, it turned out to be plastic.
• A rubber hatchet-blade protector that was doing just fine until I forgot to remove it before chopping kindling. The thing split in two, becoming trash by a single hatchet blow.
  
• A foil-lined envelope flap (the rest of the envelope was just paper) from a friend's wedding invitation.
• An itty-bitty piece of plastic that detached itself from a reusable bag.
  

And that's it. I swear. And now the bottle. I guess that thing really wanted to find its way back to the purple sack!

So yeah, despite being bummed about getting pegged with a big bag of trash, and having to clean cups-full of oil off of a variety of kitchen surfaces, I just can't get over how strange the whole thing was.