I’m tantalized by those deposit prices on cans and bottles. I know how the deposit system works, because I lived in Vermont. It’s not free money. But it could be free money, if only you could get all those containers from a non-deposit state to a deposit state in a cost-efficient way. I’m genuinely consumed with a desire to figure this out. Do you have any snarky suggestions that maybe I haven’t thought of before?
– Nickeled and Dimed
I have this theory that every idea known to man already appeared in a “Seinfeld” episode. Haven’t you seen this episode? It doesn’t work. You overload your inventory and you blow your margins on gasoline. Trust me, it doesn’t work. And an 18-wheeler’s no good. Too much overhead. You got permits, weight stations, tolls. Look, you’re way outta your league, Nickeled. Unless you can get a free truck. That completely changes your cost structure.
– I was in the pool, Rachel
Every freaking time I get a package delivered in the mail, the mailman leaves one of those yellow delivery slips instead of the actual package. I even ran after him down the street and told him to please leave my packages at the door. But he won’t do it. Two-day delivery to Durango is already four or five days, without tacking on this extra one. Plus who wants to stand in line at the post office even without a pandemic? Do I need to bribe him? Or threaten him?
– Signed, Sealed, Re-Delivered
Dear Yellow Slipped,
You gotta wait for the mailman, like a mountain lion waits for a lost Boy Scout with a backpack full of Meow Mix. Lurk in the tree in the front yard, or at least on the front stoop. Pounce before he strikes your mailbox. Ask him if you have any packages that day. Don’t give him a chance to escape. If he holds his mailbag over his head, he’s just trying to look bigger than he is. Don’t let it fool you.
– Please deliver, Rachel
The winter storm rolling in amidst all the fires has me wondering if it’s time for some new extreme Colorado sports. Ice paddleboarding? Blazing MTB? Ash-water rafting? We need some new sports anyway. All our usual ones have been discovered by the out-of-staters and there’s nothing I can do anymore without running into families from Wisconsin in rented gear. (Except skijoring. But climate change has taken care of that one.) What are your ideas?
– X-tremely Frustrated
Dear Tony Hawk,
At this rate, stepping outside is becoming its own extreme sport. I’d just as soon skip the parts of outdooring that require expensive, specialized gear and get right to the beer drinking. If a 7 a.m. brewski is acceptable on the frozen/flaming river, I see zero reason why not to partake in my own kitchen. And hey, maybe all of us participating in this activity can pitch in for a U-Haul for that other guy to get us all some of that big deposit money.
– Party hard, Rachel