An extract from a true story taken from the Fictitious Journal of Adhir Kalyan:I walk down the aisle, raise my hand, and run my fingers along the products arranged meticulously on the shelves. One item, not in keeping with the host of products attempting to grab my attention, is slightly out of place, and as a result, grabs my attention. It is only when I slide it into its intended position that I notice the six numbers and two letters:BB: 05.23.07I cannot quite come to terms with what I have just seen. Perhaps I don't want to come to terms with what I have just seen, for maybe the trauma would be too much. I resist the inexorable realization like a wave that does not wish to crash on to the shore but knows resignedly that it will do just that, and reluctantly acknowledge that the best before date of May 23, 2007, has come. And gone. More than three months ago.But the resignation is replaced by anger. This box of cookies has been wasted... is unwanted... has expired.I really should ...
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