Ask Rachel

Dear Rachel,

I’m kind of a hermit. I’ve lived here for several years, and for most of that time, I’ve just stayed at home, gone on hikes by myself, etc. No complaints – I enjoy being alone. But because circumstances changed, I’ve recently been getting out more and meeting actual people. I took stock of my new social circles and made a shocking realization. All (and I mean all) of my friends are my parents’ age. Is this weird? Do I need to see a doctor?

– Freudian Friend

Dear Benjamin Braddock,

Yes. This is weird. But I suspect that
your social circles are merely a byproduct of Durango demographics. Unless you’re a college student, there’s really not that many ways to meet people younger than your parents. But your elders have time. They have money. And they have a distinct desire to get out and about, like they couldn’t afford to do when they were raising your generation. If you’re having fun, I think it’s all good – so long as you don’t start dating their children.

– Coo coo ca choo, Rachel

Dear Rachel,

My coworker recently resigned, and I just found out (don’t ask how) that my boss is withholding her final paycheck without cause. I want to speak up for what’s right, but the thing is...I want tore-sign soon, too. Only now I’m afraid of losing my rightfully earned wages, which I’ll need to pay for my celebratory tab at the Ranch. How do I fight for justice without jeopardizing my own parting pay?

– Payroll Blues

Dear At Will Employee,

Justice and pay don’t mix. Seriously, can you think of superheroes who charge for their services? You can’t, because virtue is its own reward, blah blah blah. The easy path would be to keep your head down and nose free of all HR issues. But since you wrote, I gather that you’re not happy with that option. Yet a confrontation would also jeopardize your standing, and lawyers are expensive. This may be a case of meeting fire with fire. Like, for real. A blowtorch is a persuasive negotiating tool, and perfectly street legal.

– Show me the money, Rachel

Dear Rachel,

I was going poo at City Market south when a gentleman entered, walked up to my stall and asked me for my phone. Needless to say, I was distraught by the request. Is there some bathroom etiquette I’m unaware of where guys pass their phones to each other under the stalls? Do you have better advice than my current plan, which is a combination of avoiding public restrooms and enrolling in electro-shock therapy?

– Private Pooper

Dear Congressman,

Come on – this is only a 500-word advice column! But here goes. Let’s look at your use of the word “gentleman.” A gentleman follows a specific, if broad, code of interpersonal conduct. A gentleman would never drop his Cadbury eggs in a grocery store restroom. And if he did, the only things being passed (this really should go without saying ) would not be telephones.

– Spare a square, Rachel