I recently had the pleasure of working in one of those start up places that give you free food all day, everyday. This is how I reacted. I love a bargain. Somewhere between my Scottish roots and my six years in Amsterdam, I’ve got this thing. But I also hate haggling, so really what I’m saying is I love free stuff. If something is free, I take it. Maybe that sounds normal, but I mean I take it even if I don’t need it. And I’ll take a lot.
I have walked out of my Ob-Gyns offices with a bag full of prenatal vitamins. I’m 45 years old. I will not be needing prenatal vitamins. But they’re vitamins, right? And they’re free. When I go to a Bliss spa I allocate an extra half hour to an hour just so I can eat the slices of cheese waiting in the lounge with whale sounds. And the crackers. And then take a shower after – even though I just got scrubbed – so I can use the great free Bliss soap. And the lotion. And the mouthwash. And pack my bag full of plastic combs just in case I ever decide to actually comb my hair. And I use the Q-tips. And I clean my contact lenses. I basically go along the shelf and use everything.
I will wake up from the deepest sleep on a plane – having drunk the free champers – at the slightest rattle of a dining cart. Not thirsty, not hungry, but I take what I can. I buy cosmetics just so I can get the free samples. Every time I’ve moved I’ve left garbage bags filled with Clinique, Dermalogica and La Mer for the homeless people in my neighborhood. If you see a homeless person with glowing skin and super refined pores, that’s where I lived once.
So coming into a office where everything is free is really interesting for me. For the first few days I ate everything. Full egg and bacon breakfast. Lunch with dessert. I drank kombucha because it was on tap. I hate kombucha. But free kombucha is amazingly delicious. But then I started to miss eating cereal. I started to miss coming home to the bits of cereal dried up in the bowl in the sink. Getting my own coffee. Deciding what I will eat rather than lining up to eat like a veal calf destined for slaughter.
Seeing the glee on new employees’ faces as they get shown cafe, after cafe, after cafe, I genuinely fear for all of us becoming human veal calves. Lead to the slaughter with food, and gentle massages. Maybe I’m older. Maybe I just like to be in control. Maybe I like to feel like I’ve earned my money, and like men did back in the day, I want to walk into the saloon and put down my penny and buy my man-self a drink. Maybe I just like going outside. Walking away from where I am and using the free Wi-Fi at Starbucks and knicking a few packets of agave for my cereal while I’m at it. Maybe I think if we are given everything, we will never know the joy of free.
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