I knowingly ate dumpster food 1.5 times. I’m not proud of it. I’m not ashamed of it. It is what it is. So I’ll give the details up front. The first time I knowingly ate dumpster food I was already halfway through the meal before it was revealed to me where the food came from (thus the .5). It was not a prank. There was no hidden camera to capture my response. I was with a family that had a common practice of dumpster diving dining. And I pretty much stumbled into what turned into a two year deal with dumpster food being available and offered to me on a regular basis.
I know this doesn’t make sense, so let me set the table, so to speak.
After high school I made what might seem like a rash decision to change my college plans. Instead of studying architecture at a university in my home state, I instead went to a Bible college and prepared to teach math in Christian schools. All I was equipped to do when I finished was teach in Christian schools. I know...kind of limiting in terms of earnings potential...this I know very well now. But then... I was all about serving God, and waiting on Him to provide. You could say I had a lot to learn, and you’d be right. No argument here from me now. Let’s just say I had a lot of lessons crammed into my 20’s on this very subject.
So...upon graduating college I took a teaching position in an inner city Christian school. The school advertised itself as having a 98% minority population. Turns out, I was the only white person in my classroom every day I taught there.
If you think public school teachers aren’t paid much, it may not be a surprise that Christian school teachers were paid even less. And in the days I took this position, the school I chose was the lowest paying Christian school in the metro area. I knew this because I was canvassing all the schools for openings. Not surprisingly, my new place of employment started all their teachers with a two year contract...perhaps to make sure they could retain them at least two years.
So,..as you may conclude..my table was pretty bare from the start. I heard about a retired couple who was renting out space in their home just off Independence Ave not far from downtown KC. They said they offered a discount to people in ministry, so I certainly qualified and arranged for a meeting with my prospective landlords. When that meeting came about, lunch was provided. And that’s the way Mrs Johnston (not their real name) described the food..halfway through the meal. I had learned that her husband was retired and spent his retirement recycling cardboard and using that money to support missionaries. Back in those days one could collect a little cash rummaging and recycling, and I respected that he busied himself and was so generous. I continued to eat while listening to this unique tale. Sure, I noticed the brown outline around some of the salad...the toughness of the meat... some residue on some of the salad dressing bottles...but I didn’t want to complain or come across unappreciative. And keep in mind...this was still during the first half of the meal. I was not yet aware of the whole story. So I just put some of the peculiarities out of mind and continued to listen to how God provided for the missionaries in this way...through Mr Johnston’s dedication to recycling. I found I could only nod in approval...chew, and swallow, sip my iced tea..repeat. . But then Mrs Johnston mentioned that the cardboard was not the only way God provided. She continued by saying that in fact...everything we were having for lunch had been provided in that same way...through Mr Johnston’s dumpster runs...including the whole turkey.
Gulp.
Now...I’ve never had my life pass before my eyes, but I’ve heard of others who have. I can say though, that in an instant my entire lunch passed before my very eyes...the brown lettuce..the lids of the jars..the consistency of the turkey...all of it, like a flash.
I’m guessing I consciously decided to start chewing again. I was only halfway through the meal...and all things considered, I really needed this place to stay. It was my only prospect in an affordable price range. And I was sure I could avoid ever so politely any future offers of free dumpster food. So I cleaned my plate like my momma taught me, and we went on to discuss terms of my living there. There... now you know the .5 part.
Things were pretty simple back then. Rent was more affordable than anything else I’d come across. I agreed I had to stay in ministry during my stay there, or I’d be asked to leave. Ok. Also, since they had a constant flow of dumpster food they needed all the fridge space they could find. So, the fridge in our apartment would be partially used for dumpster food. We could have any of it that we wanted, we just had to clear it with the landlords first. I agreed to that as well.
Well...I thought that would be no problem, but it proved to be more difficult than I originally thought. One of the “perks” of working at the school was that I could eat a free school lunch during the week. So, I didn’t have to worry about that meal. But evenings and weekends would sometimes prove to be a little hard on my income.
So one weekend, I was standing in the kitchen with the freezer door open...eyeballing the frozen dumpster pizza bread...searching for expiration dates, broken packaging, or anything else that might give it away in terms of ...was it ok or not ok to eat. Expiration date...passed. Who are we kidding. All this stuff was expired. Plastic wrap seemed to be intact, but the label appeared to be sun bleached. K...pass on that one. I scrummaged around until I found one with a normal looking label...normal for dumpster food, that is. And took it out of the freezer, heated it up and ate it. I was hungry. And yes...I remembered I was supposed to clear it with the landlords first. I just didn’t want to. I didn’t want to admit to the fact that I was hungry and their dumpster pizza bread looked better than my meager rations that my budget would allow.
And yes...I heard about it later and was reprimanded and reminded of the agreement. So...that was the other time I knowingly ate dumpster food. 1.5 times in total. Long story. But there you have it.
Ok wait...that’s more. As thankful as I was for those school lunches they always seemed a little on the small side...portioned for school kids. But I purposed to be polite. Each time I returned my lunch tray to the kitchen workers I would thank them. I just thought that was a good thing to do. Probably a thankless job, I thought. And I wanted to be polite.
So one day, as was my habit, I was returning my tray to the lunch lady when I noticed Mr Johnston’s truck pulling around behind the school. I politely asked the gal if she knew if that was Mr Johnston’s truck. She smiled widely and exclaimed..”oh yes, that’s Mr Johnston. He’s the kindest man. He drops off food every week. We wouldn’t be able to have a lunch program without his donations.”
Yes...I continued to eat the free lunches. I don’t know how to do the math on it...so it’s not really 1.5 times. Hard to say what the number turned out to be. And no, I did not tell anyone what I suspected. I guessed they probably knew as much as I did anyway. And yes, I fulfilled my two year contract at the school...and yes... was then asked to leave the Johnston’s apartment. So I did. Pretty much that simple...I moved on to my next chapter ...figure out how to get state certified so I could make the big bucks in the public schools. Hah!!! That story is for another time.
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