I'm Terribly Conflicted About Whether To Tell You What I Found In My Satur Farms Salad Box From Whole Foods

So I’ve been massively vacillating about whether or not to write about what I found in my Satur Farms salad box this week. (By the way, for those of you who are familiar with this brand, don’t you always think it looks like Satur should be Saturn? Doesn’t it seem like the ‘n’ was just left off as some sort of typo?)

Here is what happened: On Sunday, March 27, I bought a box of Satur Farms salad greens at Whole Foods and brought it home, only to find the finger from a rubber glove inside. It was unfortunate; I love Satur Farms products, and wish the company no ill will. I also do not blame Whole Foods in any way, as they don’t make this product, but merely carry it. I’ve made a video of my experience (you’ll find it below) but I don’t know if I should write about it. I’m not sure I should announce that I found a rubber glove in my Satur Farms salad box. First of all, I wonder if I would be screwing myself out of some kind of restitution or reward. If I choose to do this quietly by sending a letter to the company, perhaps they will give me a lifetime supply of salad? If I write about it, then it’s “out there” and they’d have no reason to send me anything. In fact, they’d probably just be pissed.

Then again, that first explanation presupposes an angry company that will be bitter and wish to argue with me. A second possibility, and the second reason I’m hesitant, is that it’s a nice company, this was a rare accident (perfectly likely), and by writing about it, I’d be causing a ‘shit storm’ that may result in bad things for Satur Farms employees. I remember how the woman who claimed to find a finger in her Wendy’s chili made a lot of trouble for Wendy’s, and I wouldn’t want anything like that to happen to Satur.

Speaking of that Wendy’s faker, my third reason for feeling cautious about writing about this is the possibility that people might accuse me of making this up, as she did. I don’t think anything about me screams “person looking to create Internet fame by orchestrating a fake food incident,” but who knows? I mean, who would even think of such a specific thing as the finger from a rubber glove? If I wanted to make up a dramatic scenario, I think I’d find a cockroach. Or dogshit.

Finally, I don’t want to become ‘known’ for this incident. The Internet works in strange ways—zeitgest!!—we never know what will really grab people. There’s a chance that if I write about it, a few people will read it, comment “Gross!” and that’ll be that. And this is the scenario I choose to envision. But there’s also the possibility, however distant, that it would ‘go viral’ and get mad hitz, in which case, God forbid, I’d become “the guy who found a rubber glove in his salad.” I would probably have to go on TV and stuff.

Still, this is hardly comparable to finding maggots in a Big Mac. In a way, though, it’s even more upsetting, since this is a health-food product bought at Whole Foods, whereas if you eat at McDonald’s, what do you expect? I felt so good about myself, buying my salad at Whole Foods with all the other nice-looking health freaks, but now what did I get in return? A rubber glove. And not even a whole one!

I’m going to head to Whole Foods as soon as I can (it’s a 15-block walk and I recently hurt my foot), and when I do, you know what? I think I’ll just return the salad and get my money back. That’s all I want out of this. I think it’d be over the top to write about it and tell everyone. I’m going to keep it to myself.



Daniel Roberts is a magazine reporter in New York.