ew

In my apartment building, near the mailboxes, there is a small table. People can leave things there for the other tenants, and sometimes UPS puts boxes there for people who aren't home. It's a very useful table. I leave postcards for my shows there, as do some of the other theatre people who live here. I've seen books, New Yorkers, knick knacks and odds and ends left on that little table for anyone who wants them.

This morning there were six individually wrapped twinkies.

I thought that was rather odd, but was not tempted by the synthetic sweets. I used to like Twinkies when I was a kid. Hell, I was practically raised on Hostess snacks. Still, whenver I've succumbed to the nostalgic urge for a HoHo or a Hostess Cupcake, I've felt let down. My tastes are changing, and it really does taste pretty awful.

When I came home tonight, there were three Twinkies sitting there in their individual wrappers.

I've been wondering about it for a while now. Who picks up Twinkies left on the garage sale table?
Did they enjoy them?
Do they feel..... dirty?


I would.