How to Withdraw from the Food Bank


Yesterday I very nearly took a can of chopped tomatoes from a supermarket trolley.  I wouldn’t have been stealing, it was there for those of us who’re hungry and don’t have money to feed our bellies.  I was nervous though, not sure if I was authorised to dip in my hand.  Would someone on the staff arrest me at the door and say I must have paperwork to prove my impoverished worth?  Worse than that, I was worried lest someone who knew me saw me accepting alms.  Oh the humiliation, oh the indignity!  But then what am I to do when I am hungry?  And so I withdrew from the scene, berating my stupid pride that came before my empty belly.  “What the fuck,” I asked myself, “has my life come to?”
So I found a sheltered place to sit where I could plug in my dongle to blog about it.  Sure enough the post popped up… and beneath it appeared an Emirates advertisement for which I won’t be paid (there’s another blog in that).  “Book a holiday to Dubai!” it said.
If I hadn’t laughed I would’ve cried.



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