Marks and Spencers skips were the cornerstone of the eating habits of the small town where I live. On a sunday , particularly, you could meet over hungry souls digging deep in to the vast ammount of fresh food they would thgrow out. Most freegans were sensible and took only what they could eat before it went off, the odd idiot may take more thgan necessary but were viewed as twats, ron. One christmas our flat was filled with hundreds of pounds worth of fresh flowers decorating our living room. My first meeting with a particularly overzealous community copper was near those skips where I stood defending thew rights ofd the poor to takew food destined for the landfill site. In their spite Marks and Spencer staff sprayed the food with a blue dye so you could tell by thier hands, who fed for free. One day, tiring of thier own unconsciouss charity, they put locks on the bins. Today I walked by and photographed the Freegans reply, a mass of burnt out melted plastic with the four metal wheels entwined in the mess. I wish I had been there tyo film the fire.
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