Ask Rachel

Dear Rachel,

Why are mail carriers allowed to smoke in their mail vehicles? Seriously, you can’t smoke on the job anywhere anymore, but these guys and gals get away with it. Is this why they don’t allow people to mail anything liquid or flammable?

– Smoke Signals

Dear Prohibited Items,

My first thought is, it’s bad that mail carriers light up in a car full of highly flammable insurance bills. But I’ve tried to start enough campfires to know that, contrary to popular misconception, paper is not actually highly flammable. I’ve also found out that bills are still due even if you burn them. So I guess I’m not too worried about fire. But I do worry about my Telegraph checks showing up on time, or at all. If smoking makes my carrier happier, then hell, I’ll buy him a pack.

– Got a light? Rachel

Dear Rachel,

An old family friend is coming to stay with us for a weekend over the holidays. He writes recently to say “oh hey, by the way, my whole family has scabies right now, but I’m all clear, just want you to know LOL!” Um... no LOL. Scabies are not welcome in this house. I have kids and

dogs to watch out for, not to mention myself. And I don’t want to have to burn my furniture when he leaves. How do I let him know he’s no longer bunking up at our house?

– Unwelcome Wagon

Dear Unhospitality Industry,

Scabies is ... what exactly? All I know is it sounds like a conflation of “scabs” and “rabies,” which puts it squarely in the “not nice” list this holiday season. Even if you like picking scabs. I think the solution here is easy: you board up your house and take the family to the Bahamas for the month of December. Then when your friend shows up, he’ll get the hint. But if you chicken out and he comes to stay with you anyway... can I come see what scabies looks like?

– Pickin’ and grinnin,’ Rachel

Dear Rachel,

This Thanksgiving, I’m cataloguing everything I’m thankful for. I want to let you know that I’m thankful for you and your weekly advice. I would be even more thankful if I knew who you were, though. So in the spirit of the holiday, Rachel, please tell me: Who are you really?

– Your Biggest Fan

Dear Large Air Circulator,

My name is Rachel. Rachel I am. I am legend. I am legion. I am your father. I am Batman. I am a bad ass mudda who don’t take no crap off nobody. Wherever there is injustice, you will find me. Wherever there is suffering, I’ll be there. Wherever liberty is threatened, you will find... the Three Amigos! Me? I’ll be somewhere else, mocking people’s fashion choices in the silence of my own mind. And still wishing I hadn’t looked up scabies.

– I’m Rachel, and you’re not, Rachel