/ck/ - Food & Cooking

>>11392061
This reminds me of the time I had to commute with the bus. In my city, which is not pretty but otherwise a liveable western german city, there's this one bus station. It's a bustling place, right next to a regional train station and between a giant shopping mall and assorted shopping areas. It's a place where afluent people go by everyday.
Which is what made the place so well liked to several old people. They didn't know each other. You never saw them together. But every evening, two or three of them would walk across the bus station and in their old but well cared for clothes would go up to the trash bins in their search for bottles.
Each bottle worth maybe 8 or rarely 20 cent. They would do this, one after the other, in broad daylight during the summer, in dreary autumn and in merry december after dark. In front of everyone. Strangers to them just as they were strangers to me. Yet these old people kept their heads down, not daring to meet the eye of anyone, so ashamed were they to have to do this. Not just pick up garbage, but to sift through tidily binned garbage just for maybe 5 € more per day. There was no pride left for them. Their long lives of working hadn't been enough to buy these poor grannys and grandpas even this tiny bit of decency.
That year will stay with me until I myself will be old. It haunts me, to see my own people -for they were all white germans- walk slowly through the cold and shame.

Can you imagine what reduces a man to make a mayonnaise banana sandwhich in his car? What misfortune must have driven him to that point in life? A 'dish' that only serves to give calories and no joy.

Godspeed, bananaman, godspeed.