In every hostel, there’s a freebie shelf in the kitchen where people leave the stuff they don’t want anymore. Sounds cool, but mostly it’s just a collection of greasy saltshakers and vegemite.
No one has ever left a hunk of cheese or a bottle of olive oil on the freebie shelf. You always check it, cuz, who knows, right? But the best I’ve ever found was some sunscreen that I later realized was expired.
But then today…
Today was a freaking miracle day. An older English lady and her husband were leaving the country and unloading all their extra stuff. Most of it was gross English-people-food, but I just happened to be walking past old Edith* when she plopped this bevy on the shelf:
*Not actually sure what her name was, but I’m betting maybe 70% likelihood it was Edith.
- About a cup of basmati rice.
- Half a stick of butter. Not that nasty “buttery spread” bullshit. THAT AIN’T BUTTER, Y’ALL. This was the real stuff, salt and all.
- Half a container of pesto, which I’ve learned is a critical component of any delicious meal.
- A complete, unused, perfectly phallic carrot.
Basically a backpacker’s dream.
I snatched that shit up faster than you can say “Trump’s a chode.” Which I’ve been saying about once every 20 minutes*.
*Not because I like saying “Trump’s a chode” – WHICH I DEFINITELY DO – but because literally every non-American I meet asks me about him. To which I do a dramatic facepalm and then yell “TRUMP’S A CHODE, OKAY? LET’S TALK ABOUT THIS AWESOME FREE SHIT I JUST SCORED FROM EDITH OVER THERE. LET’S FREAKING TALK ABOUT THAT.”
Anyways, thanks a bunch, Edith, for the awesome meal. You are most definitely not a chode.