grandma

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My mind was reeling. I started thinking about everyone I knew who still had plastic bags. Many handed them in during the roundup when the government was paying citizens to give them up. A lot of people still kept a private stash for a rainy day or to pick up dog poo in the park. 

I remember when the government first announced the ban. My parents (who are hard right winged highly irrational conservatives) told me that it was just "a fad" and that they were going to "have the last laugh" when shit hit the fan. My dad was the craziest wingnut of them all. He worked at the bank Had a bunker filled with plastic bags, seeds, water, guns and ammo. Ready to rule the world.

 Ready to rule the world

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My folks had bags. But it was doubtful I could ever pry them from their cold dead hands.

But grandma! She was a 10-a-day pill popper who loved to sing show tunes and occasionally disappeared for a a day or two. But she always came back. She collected stacks of newspapers, VHS movies (because DVD's were also "a fad" and she was blissfully unaware of streaming). She too collected plastic bags! In fact she had an entire room devoted to them, which we affectionately called the cartel room.

Grandma could afford to give me a few hundred bags. I was sure of it. And then when those ran out I could move on to her gin soaked bridge club friends and I'd have inventory for years. Her bridge friends were usually too drunk or high on pills to notice what was going on. They partied more than most college kids. 

 

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