You Raging Alcoholic

You don't drink too much.

Sure, you enjoy a little wine with dinner, and an evening cocktail, the occasional early mimosa or bloody mary. Maybe a beer or three with your movie. But you don't think you drink too much.





Then it comes time to carry out your recycling.




Holy Sweet Mother of Dussledorf, that's a lot of bottles.




There's a walk of shame that puts your drinking into perspective - the long trek to the curb with your recycle bin. And regardless of how gently you walk the bottles clang like a prayer-bell calling all to come offer up their sorrowful laments for your sad addiction.




After a good weekend there's too much for the orange bin (after all, it only holds about 15 gallons) so you have to line the overflow of empty bottles up on the sidewalk like a funeral procession for your liver.

The one redeeming factor is that you do entertain a lot - in our numbers we are mighty, and our guilt is dispersed among us all.


Thank god condoms aren't recyclable. The disparity between the fullness of my alcohol-bottle recycle bin and the emptiness of my condom recycle bin (like new - still has the wrapper on it!) would paint a very heartbreaking picture of my world.