Interview With A Bag Of Wilted Greens

Brandon: I’m sorry. 

BOWG: You should be. You dumb, dumb, dummy. You wasteful wretch. 

I really didn’t mean for this to happen. 

I know. It’s gonna be okay. I can’t tell you it’s not your fault, and I can’t say I’m not disappointed. 

So this isn’t like…a great escape? You wanted to be eaten? 

Of course! That’s what I’m here for, that’s how I fit in. I was excited to become a part of you. And you got my hopes up. Plenty of people buy bags of greens in the vain hope some future version of themselves will make healthy choices. But you - 

No, my purchase was habitual, not aspirational. I was committed. 

You walked into Trader Joe’s carrying your bag, you headed straight downstairs for snacks and ice cream and then you came up and boarded the end of the line and grabbed your staples as the line moved forward. You were probably the most efficient shopper in the store. 

I really appreciate that, thank you. 

Some people bumble around the place going down their list, picking things out in no sensible order. If everyone shopped like you, the whole thing would be seamless. But anyway - you grabbed me and tossed me in your sack, and I was giddy. I wasn’t expecting to be part of some delicacy or anything but I figured I’d play a role. 

The plan was to eat half of you on day one and the second half on day two or three. Just tossed with some balsamic vinaigrette or honey mustard, maybe mix a can of tuna in or something like that. 

Yeah if it doesn’t start to happen on day one, the odds dip sharply. Around day three I saw you grabbing turkey and cheese and a tortilla and got excited again - I could have added some crunch. But no. And then there were a couple days where you could have sauteed me but now—well, you can see. You can smell. I’m slimy. I’m rank. Rats and bugs, that’s who I’ll nourish. So what happened to your plan? How did we end up here?

Well, I meant to eat half the first day. But while I was still shopping my wife asked me if I’d pick up some Sweetgreen on the way home -  

Ugh. 

Are you anti Sweetgreen?

Just jealous. If you’re a green in the American industrial food complex, Sweetgreen is a golden ticket. Guaranteed to end up in circulation, as it were.

And if you’re not in the American industrial food complex? 

I dunno. Probably a Scottish sheep pasture. A green can recycle for centuries there. 

Do you like being a plant? 

It’s very fulfilling. I mean not so much when you get packed into a plastic bag and then left to rot in your own juices - 

Ouch.

But yeah. It’s like being a fiber in a giant cloak that wraps the whole world in a hug. We cycle so much more rapidly than you guys. We’re more keenly aware that our existence is really just a brief stewardship, a fleeting concentration of natural energy. And we’re so sensory, mostly concerned about light, temperature, and moisture - it’s a very grounded experience. 

Was that…

Yep. 

Are puns an integral part of the lived green experience? 

If you’re growing wild, not so much. Growing wild, man. That’s a trip. Hunkering down during a drought, never knowing if and when the next rain is coming - those guys are warriors. But in a greenhouse it’s all just there for you all the time so there’s not much to do other than just soak it in and make stupid jokes and cross your leaves for that Sweetgreen shipment. 

Care to share some of your favorites? 

What? 

I said, care to share some of your favorites? Favorite puns?

Oh, sorry, I mustard misheard you. Maybe I need to turnip the volume. What did the bank say to the lettuce farmer who wanted a loan for a new crop? 

I don’t know. 

Iceberg debt ahead. 

Wow. Okay, well I’m chucking you out now. I appreciated the conversation though. Nourishment for the soul, if not the body. And maybe we’ll meet again some day. 

Hey man. We all end up in the compost eventually.