Sometimes they would ask if I’d like to take some food home. When I found out they were making fun of me behind my back because I would sometimes say yes, I wished I had never have accepted any of their stank, trailer-park s***. They could afford much better food — and even make good home-made stuff — but they served the nastiest, grossest, pre-made, unrecognizable s*** that tasted like cardboard. Wankers.
