Eating on the move

In the run-up to giving up plastic, I began experimenting with various takeaway food outlets to see which I would still be able to shop from.

First up, buying a sandwich from SPAR. These are usually wrapped in greaseproof paper and then put in a plastic bag with a price label on it. After ordering my baguette, I leaned on the counter and tried not to look like a weirdo.

'This is going to sound a bit odd... but would you mind not putting that baguette in a plastic bag?'

The woman at the counter looked confused. 'But I have to wrap it up.'

'You could just wrap it in paper,' I suggested.

She seemed slightly distressed. 'But I have to put a sticky label on it.'

'Well,' I said helpfully, 'You could just give the sticker to me and I'll take it to the counter like that.' When she still seemed reluctant, I added untruthfully, 'They've done it before.'

She agreed, and after making the sandwich, wrapped it in paper. Then she stood looking at it for a while. Suddenly her face lit up; she reached under the counter, pulled out a paper bag with a plastic window and gave me a triumphant grin.

'That's got a plastic window,' I pointed out. Her face drooped. I gently prised the baguette out of her hands, took the sticky label and made it to the counter.

[Are sticky labels plastic, though? I like to think they're paper, glue and ink. But doesn't most ink have a plastic mix in it? Ye gods, this is complicated. How on earth can you know if something has ink with or without plastic on it?]

The next place I tried was at Starbucks in Brighton. Yes, Brighton has plenty of very pleasant local cafes and I can't really explain what I was doing there, but they have a delicious cold coffee with lumps of chocolate in it and about seven gallons of whipped cream. It probably has a silly name like mochafrappacinno.

Whilst standing in the queue with some friends I commented, 'Next week I won't be able to drink any more of these.'

'Why not?' they asked.

'Well, it comes in plastic.'

'But look, Ele, they've got paper cups, too. Just ask for it in a paper cup!'

'They'll never do that,' I foretold pessimistically.

They looked at me incredulously. 'Why not? It's a perfectly reasonable request. Just ask them!'

'You ask them,' I said, then realised I was being a wimp.

I got to the front and took a deep breath. 'Excuse me, but would you mind putting that in a paper cup?'

The woman behind the counter didn't appear to understand, so I repeated myself whilst feeling rather foolish.

Eventually she responded, 'Paper is for hot drinks. Plastic is for cold.'

'Yes, quite,' I smiled. 'But what I'm asking is, could you just put that drink in a paper cup even though it is cold?'

She considered. 'No.'

'Um, why?' I asked.

She shrugged. 'We have to put cold drinks in plastic, or I will get in trouble.'

I returned to my friends, not very surprised, and found them almost apoplectic with rage.

'This is ridiculous!' one of them fumed. 'Why the fuck can't they just put it in a fucking paper cup?'

At least this way, however, I won't be able to chug down any more of these coronaries-in-a-glass. After polishing off my own, I finished my friend's as well, which was almost entirely cream, and felt slightly sick.

Next, train journeys. This is actually easier than it seems. I believe that on Virgin trains the only item I can buy is a Divine chocolate bar (at least it's an ethical/delicious), but in stations a few of the ridiculously overpriced baguettes are put in paper bags, as are things like cookies and croissants. Marks & Spencer's do some of their sandwiches in cardboard boxes with cornstarch windows but sadly almost everything else there is encased in swathes of plastic (their plastic forks actually come wrapped in plastic). Obviously the aim here is to plan ahead, bring my own sandwiches and stop being so dependent on convenience food.

Finally, a mention must go to Souped Up on Lancaster University campus. I took an old tupperware box along and tried the usual slightly embarrassed, 'Would you mind putting my chili in this instead?'
To my surprise, he gave me a beaming smile. 'That's a good idea!' he said. 'Did you know we give a discount to people who bring their own containers?'
What a nice bunch of human beings they are. And terribly good-looking. And, of course, the food's delicious.