I Do It For the Dimes

I’ve just finished yet another bottle of diet Dr. Pepper. Each one yields me a sparkling silver dime and I smile.

That is such a lie.

There is no smiling involved. Ever.

With every bottle I finish, I groan in disgust as I add it to the already overflowing bags of empty cans and bottles in my garage.

There are only a few states that punish us in this way and mine is one of them.

I hate Michigan.