Introspections
THE FUTURE IS NOT DISPOSABLE BY A R I X Z A L AC E P H OTO G R A P H Y C O U R T E SY O F L A S T R Å
s we waited patiently, Jen and I made our predictions. “I think we are going to get six,” Jen said to me with confidence. “Six! That is a lot for one meal,” I replied. “I am going to go with three, maybe four.” We had just sat down at our table. While walking into the restaurant, we both agreed not to stop the wait staff from handing us plastic straws during our meal. The rule was simple. Do not discourage them in any way, regardless of how many straws we have already received. It was an experiment I had been conducting at a variety of restaurants; this particular restaurant was a nice one, so I anticipated the number would be low. 124 | M AY 2019
After ten minutes, the waitress took our drink orders. Jen asked for hot water with lemon, and I ordered a margarita on the rocks. The waitress strolled back to the table with the drinks and a glass of water for each of us. As she set the glasses on the table, my eyes widened with disbelief. There were five small beverage straws in my margarita and three in Jen’s hot water. That was eight straws, already more than either of us had predicted. Next, our server set the glasses of water on the table. Beside each, she placed another straw. We were up to ten straws already. By the time our check came, a total of seventeen plastic straws were on our table. As I watched the
