Rules for Livin’: Do Not Buy Tupperware or Go to Ikea
I found myself in Ikea the other day, on the hunt for light bulbs and free air conditioning. That place is hellhole '“ despite temperatures that nearly qualify it as a blast freezer '“ because of its roving clusters of flustered parents with screaming children and its goddamn monopoly on light bulbs that fit their lamps, which is the sad fact that led me there in the first place. Bastards.
Clutching my prize absurdly tiny (seriously, who thought of this shit?) light apparatuses, I moved through the store toward the kitchen gadget section because I am a sucker. You’re right Ikea' I do need a cherry pitter. I was reaching for my shiny trophy when I saw a most absurd thing: people were buying Tupperware. Armfuls of it. What the hell?
As any brokeass knows, you can get that shit for free anytime you get to-go. And as any respectable person knows, actually buying it is for prissy bitches. Reusing takeout containers reduces waste, saves you money and contributes to a nice eclectic collection of plastic-tub shaped things that will eventually make your house a home.
Yeah, just kidding about that last one '“ your mismatched Tupperware will look like shit. But that’s what cabinets are for!
The key here, though, is familiarizing yourself with takeout in your neighborhood and knowing which places will give you food in the nice firm plastic round or square tubs instead of in flimsy paper cartons or worse, leaky Styrofoam.
I’ve found that most Thai or Indian places give the good kind while getting takeout burgers or sandwiches from restaurants almost always leads to Styrofoam-related tragedy. Cheap Chinese food is always dicey: the plastic containers are more expensive for the restaurant, but are better for handling goopy, over-sauced gargantuan portions, so it’s up to how much your local go-to cares about its to-go customers.
Once you’ve acquired enough flimsy plastic to last you a lifetime of leftovers, chuck the containers right in the recycle bin so they can live again' as you next takeout lunch. I guess you could learn to cook instead of fostering your own hoarding tendencies.
But then you’d still be in line at fucking Ikea, with your cherry pitter and mandoline and organic bamboo cutting board. But at least you won’t have given in.
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