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June 1, 2015

Call me a skeptic, but whenever I hear the word FREE, my eyes automatically narrow.  Maybe it’s a throwback from working in the school cafeteria in the sixth grade, but I’m a true believer in the adage, Ain't no such thing as a free lunch.  Those were the days that in order to actually get our lunch free, we had to do something to earn it.

My job was to scrape discarded food off the trays into a big black garbage can.  Before that, gruel was plopped onto a tray where the kids would stir it around with a fork a bit before handing it over to a kitchen-helper brandishing a rubber spatula.  At first it totally grossed me out and I had to force myself to look into the garbage can or risk slopping waste on the floor.  It was like peering into into the disgusting bowels of a vomit-infested black hole and I fought the urge to hurl the contents of my own stomach into the mix.  After awhile, the jumble of mishmash began to fascinate me.  It was like gazing into a Jackson Pollock painting.  Gross...

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