Dumpster Diving for Dummies

One of the things I love about Tom is he’s always trying to be better.  At any given time he’ll have several projects on the go- raising pigs, organic farming, DIY car servicing- all of them aimed at being that tiny bit kinder to, you know, the universe. 

Not all of Tom’s schemes are for the faint hearted.  If you prefer to steer clear of filth, offensive odours, and pissed off supermarket employees, then dumpster diving probably isn’t your thing.  If you, like Tom, can laugh listed perils off in pursuit of free food for your pigs, you’ve found yourself a very rewarding pastime!  Tom’s been foraging through bins for months now.  A good loot might include dried fruit, pasta, donuts, expensive-brand facial wash, strawberry deodorant and an umbrella.  Seriously- it’s a nice umbrella! 

He does it to feed his endlessly starving children.  Sorry, I mean pigs.  But he has grander rationales, also.  Like most dumpster divers, who are usually middle class lefties, he doesn’t see the point in feeding our waist culture and buying new stock when there is perfectly good stuff getting thrown out.  It’s about doing that tiny little bit to reduce your environmental footprint.  And contrary to most people’s disgust, the bins are exclusively full of packaged stuff- no actual ‘rubbish’, he only takes stuff that’s in date, and where the packaging is totally intact.  If picky me can eat it, so can you. 

I’ve got to admit I’m not hardcore enough to join the fun.  I went once, admittedly on a very tame ‘open bin’ dive- the dumpsters in progressive Brunswick are unlocked for your convenience- and with no fence scaling required.  Still, I hovered at the edge of the dumpster, occasionally peering in at Tom and trying to convince myself to jump- C’mon Katie, don’t be a pussy- to no avail.  I felt like the typical precious girlfriend, standing there ‘encouraging’ Tom and doing the car runs so I would feel included.  The fumes were just too much.  As stated, not for the faint hearted!

Most of the time people politely turn a blind eye.  The diving itself actually isn’t illegal, but the trespassing is, so occasionally there’ll be some wowser bureaucrat who insists on making life hard.  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’  Yelled a Coles employee at Tom last time.  He explained what he was doing, and proceeded to get started, to the adamant disapproval of angry shop woman.  She was more of an annoyance then anything, stamping her feet and crying for her manager the whole time Tom was hunting.  As he had pointed out, she had no right to actually stop him; he wasn’t trespassing and the dumpster was open.  I can’t fathom why anyone would care, but each to their own. 

The best bit about dumpster diving is the look on the pigs’ faces when they get their haul.  They bolt up to the car at top speed as we pull into the farm, grunting in ecstasy.  Tom jumps out, grabs them for a hug, then mixes up some delicacy; donuts, milk and bananas last time.  It’s pure pleasure watching them dig into the mush, happy as pigs in bin-recovered bounty.  Of course, as usual, it all comes down to the bloody pigs. J