The Composting Caddy Inquiry

It began, as these things always do, with evidence. Hard, aromatic, citrus evidence. A tangerine peel, brazenly sitting in the general waste, flagrantly bypassing the compost caddy. Hayley, whose composting discipline would shame a German recycling plant, immediately launched an inquiry.

I did what any seasoned operator would do when confronted with an inconvenient truth. I denied everything, just like Nigel.

This was not my peel. I had no recollection of such a tangerine. I questioned the provenance of the peel itself. Could it really be mine? Had the bin been infiltrated? Was this peel, perhaps, being taken out of context?

When denial failed, I moved seamlessly to evasion. Even if I had handled a tangerine, which I absolutely had not, was the composting guidance sufficiently clear? Were citrus peels universally accepted compost material, or was this another example of regulatory overreach? I was not making an accusation, I stressed. I was just asking the question.

Then came the witch hunt defence. One peel does not constitute a pattern. This was being blown wildly out of proportion. I was the victim of selective enforcement. Other infractions surely went unnoticed. Why was this peel headline news? Why now? Who benefits? Again, I emphasised that I was merely raising reasonable concerns.

I may also have suggested that the whole affair was being weaponised by the kitchen establishment, eager to distract from its own failures. The compost caddy lid, for example, which never quite closes properly. No one ever talks about that. Curious, that.

At no point did I apologise. That would imply guilt. Instead, I presented myself as a man standing firm against compost orthodoxy, bravely resisting the creeping tyranny of the green bin.

In the end, of course, the truth was obvious. I had thrown the peel in the wrong bin because it was late, I was tired, and I could not be bothered to open the caddy.

But admitting that would have undermined the whole strategy. And besides, as Nigel himself has taught us, the point is not to be right. The point is to never, ever concede the tangerine.