The Tin

Now before you I tell you this story, I want to tell you that I have regrets. Mountains of regret that get up to eight inches of snow.

Six months ago I threw away a tuna fish tin.

I knew it was wrong. I knew I should rinse the tin thoroughly and place it firmly in the blue recycle bin. I blame the smell. It infiltrated my nostrils with such panache that my natural reaction was to get the tin as far away from me as possible. Please understand: I was not in control of my body.

And why is it tuna has such an unreasonable, insurmountable smell, and yet has such a delicate and wonderful flavour?

My guilt was immediate. But as I stared at the tin in the bin, my stomach gurgled and my attention shifted back to making a tasty tuna sandwich.

For a perfect tuna fish sandwich every time, I always use Oceans solid white, dolphin-friendly tuna. I flake it with a fork, add a half-cup mayonnaise, one tablespoon of dill (fresh or dried: you decide), and salt and pepper to taste. My husband enjoys his in melt with cave-aged cheese (like me, he refuses to eat cheese that has not been aged in a cave).

My husband took the trash out after lunch, without hesitation or a reminder. When the door slammed, the guilt hit me like a ton of bricks. The tuna tin was in the garbage bag, and the garbage bag was going to giant waste bin. And the waste bin would soon be hoisted into a garbage truck, and would be going straight to the nearest landfill.

It takes 100 years for a tin can to even begin the biodegrade process. My tuna fish tin would be taking up space in a landfill for at least the next century.

I raced to the elevator, pushing the “down” button frantically, every second closer to the tin’s too-long farewell. The door opened and there stood my husband, hands in his pockets, whistling a jaunty tune. He didn’t realize the atrocity that he had just participated in. The garbage bag gone, ergo the tin was gone.

I will spend the rest of my life trying to un-do the damage I caused by tossing that tin. I hereby swear to: use fabric bags, buy local, use dish detergent without petroleum, stop killing pink dolphins, wash my clothes with an energy-efficient washer and dryer, stop buying a full-length fur coat each season, brew fair-trade coffee, and use public transport more than occasionally.

I know what you’re thinking: Yeah, yeah, yeah… recycle and all that! But it’s true. This is our planet and we are responsible for it.

That tuna tin still haunts me: in my thoughts and in my dreams. It even visited me three times on Christmas Eve.

Take heed.

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2 thoughts on “The Tin

  1. Hands says:

    i once threw a full can of beans in the garbage on PURPOSE because i was sooo mad that there was no hunk o bacon on top…then later (3hrs) my tummy was rumbling so grabbed it out and devoured it…later my wife paid the penalty in a stench filled house…later still i paid the penalty with a cold shoulder in bed…i regret ever saving that stupid can of beans m*^t#r f#%k*r

  2. Gnome says:

    How could you use me like that to participate in your villainy! Don’t you know I would have dumpster dived to rescue that poor can of tuna! Unbelievable.

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