Homeless in Vancouver: My Dunk-a-roos moment

First of all, I have no idea how three packets of Dunk-a-roos ended up in my bicycle basket.

I take the basket with me when I lock up my bike. Perhaps someone distracted me for a moment and slipped the binary cookies and icing junk food product in among the other bits of junk I keep in the basket.

However that went, I found them today and one by one “et” them. I was raised to eat all the food on my plate and I guess “plate” can apparently include a bike basket and “food” can include Dunk-a-roos.

I’m frankly surprised by my open-mindedness in that last regard.

As I was eating the contents of the second packet—laboriously scooping out bits of icing from the thimble-sized compartment using tiny cookie pieces, I had a vision.

I saw a boardroom, appointed in expensive hardwoods; the ceiling was dark maple, intricately embossed.

The chairs, walls, and round conference table were all blonde oak. The floor was covered in richly embroidered dark brown wall-to-wall carpet.

This was the board room of the Oreo cookie company and around the conference table sat the directors from Oreo and other cookie manufacturers.

They were discussing how much money they could save in labour and machinery costs if only they could convince the customers to put the cookies together themselves.

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