Exploitation

On my lunch break I was sitting at a table on the twelfth floor, which offers an expansive view of what is today an incredibly dreary lake front. I was eating my crudites ("raw veggies" isn't fancy enough for this school cafeteria) and apparently staring at nothing with noticeable intensity, because a young man- an undergrad by the look of him- stopped and asked me what I was thinking about so hard. My response:

"Honestly? I'm contemplating the likelihood that my every bite contributes to the exploitation of the kitchen worker who chopped this celery, as well as the farm worker who planted and harvested this celery. I'm trying to figure out when it is and isn't okay to eat vegetables of unknown provenance that have been cut up by somebody else."

He nodded like he really understood. Maybe he's taken this class, but that would make him a grad student, so I guess my point is don't judge a book by it's cover.