I Hate Kale

         

            There was a much shorter line-up than usual on Wednesday, August 31st, at the food bank. I guess that was because the social services checks had been paid out and people had more money for food.

            It had been about three weeks since that woman had fainted, and I hadn’t seen her since.

            Someone had dumped a large amount of crappy furniture on the north west corner of the driveway, near the sidewalk. There was a couch, a futon, a dresser and some other things, like a food processor. I always worry about bedbugs when people throw out beds and couches these days, now that I don’t have bedbugs anymore. There’s always some stuff thrown out around the food bank, as if it’s the neighbourhood’s mini dump.

            I tried to find a spot to read that wasn’t downwind from second hand smoke, but that wasn’t also too close to the garbage bins, which I think need bleach or something to disinfect them.

            I got number 8, went to the bank to take out the rest of my rent, then I went home for a while.

            There were just a handful of people waiting when I came back two hours later, but a few more arrived after me.

            While walking around to find a spot to stand with fresh air, a guy asked if it was a good book. I told him it was for eleven year olds and in French. He said, “That’s okay, that’s okay!” Later I heard him singing to himself, “Food, food, food …”

            Then the old Polish gentleman with the big white moustache came up to me, pointed at my French-English dictionary and asked hopefully, “Slavic?” I said, “No. French.” And he walked away disappointed.

            Then a man in his thirties asked me if I speak French. I said, “Un peu.” I asked if he spoke French, and he answered, “Beaucoup!” I inquired if he was from Quebec or France, but he told me that he was from an African country where they speak French. I guessed, “Algeria?” but he said no and seemed to want to turn the conversation into a quiz. He wanted me to name the country to the east of Algeria. I tried, “Morocco” but that wasn’t it. He finally told me he was Tunisian. I knew that Tunisia was a French protectorate and a former colony of France. I know that most modern Tunisians are Arabic, and he looked like that was his ethnic background. I wanted to know whether much of the native DNA had been mixed with the French. He said, some, but not much. Our conversation ended when his number was called. Mine was called shortly after that.

            I was inside for about five minutes before Bruce called number 8.

            The top of the first set of shelves had cake mix, pancake mix and some pre-packaged medicinal herbs. I didn’t need any of those.

            Below that were Triscuits, sleeves of saltines and rye crisps. The rye crisps would go best with cheese, which I didn’t have. Come to think of it, besides cream cheese, cheese is one thing I’ve never gotten from the food bank. Anyway, saltines are the only kind of cracker they had that also go well with butter or margarine, so I took those.

            From the bottom, Bruce grabbed me a couple of handfuls of soft chocolate-banana cookies and one handful each of fruit rollups and fruit juice gum candies.

            Since I was finally out of pasta and sauce, I took some spiral pasta and four-cheese sauce from the next set of shelves.

            I got a can of chick peas, one of chicken noodle soup and another of keta salmon.

            Bruce handed me a roll of toilet paper, and after I said, “Yay!” he gave me another one.

            There was a choice of a soda beverage that contained stevia and regular drinking boxes of orange juice. I don’t like stevia, so I got two drinking boxes.

            There were three cereals, but only one that wasn’t an ultra sweetened kids brand, so I selected the Shreddies.

            In the cold section there was a choice between vanilla almond milk and coconut milk. I picked the coconut.

            I got three small strawberry yogourt drinks.

            There was a choice between frozen egg patties and half a dozen real eggs in a carton rather than a plastic bag. Which would you pick?

            There were a wide selection or prepackaged salads from Longos. I decided on a pack of strawberries with the peduncles removed. When I got them home though I found that the flavour had been somehow removed as well.

            I grabbed a loaf of blueberry bread and one of multi grain.

            Hazel had a fairly wide selection of vegetables. She gave me a bag of small potatoes, three yams, three carrots, two onions, a red pepper and a yellow pepper. She offered me some kale, but I’d just chopped up a bunch the night before for a vegetable stew and didn’t want to get kaled out. Plus, kale is just not all that tasty. I asked she had any fruit and she was about to say “no” when she suddenly said, “Oh! I’ve been looking right at it!” She gave me two apples and a pear.