Dear Mr. Campaigner who knocks on my door at 7 pm, looking distinctly "Portlanderish" (Oregonians know what I mean by that):
Yes, I agree pollution is terrible. No, I will not join your campaign
to eliminate plastic bags. I have a baby on my hip and am balancing on
one foot so I can restrain my dog with the other. Guess what? They poop.
A lot. Both of them. And in public places, too. I NEED plastic bags.
Why, you ask? To pick up POOP! I'm a poor, tired, (did I mention poor)
housewife who refuses to give up her right to free plastic bags from the
grocery store. Please stop explaining your campaign to me. Best of luck
with the tree-hugging neighbors; I'm sure they'll help.
Please Go Away