In New York City, you can get anything delivered: cat food, diapers, egg salad, fries. But with the greasy fries comes lots of ketchup.

I don't have anything against Heinz or Hunts or Annie's, but I do have a problem with waste. Order a basic grilled chicken sandwich and you get a dozen or so packets of ketchup, mustard and mayo. That's not including the plastic utensils, paper napkins and salt and pepper.

I'd use a few of the quarter ounce packets for dipping, but always have a ton leftover. I tried to save them for the future. But I live in a one-bedroom apartment with my husband, our cat Nina and our son Henry. I only have room for a dozen or so packets.

I tried keeping the ketchup, but it just gets in the way.

Then a lightbulb went off -- a green bulb. Instead of constantly shuffling the packets around my pint-size kitchen, I could return them to the diner where I always order my chicken souvlaki greek salad -- or any diner for that matter. Tossing them was not an option.

But a funny thing happened when I brought the unused packets back to the diner in a white crumpled paper bag. The hostess thought I was returning my food. She even apologized and asked if she could make it right. But the diner owner took a look inside the bag and said thank you.

I know, I'm kind of odd to return the ketchup. But it's the little things that make a big difference, right? Now when I order food I ask for fewer condiments, and when I forget, or when I'm inundated anyway, I pop them in a bag, wait for them to collect and then I return them to one diner or another.