Life is full of dissappointments. I’m an expert in that area. One of my biggest

dissappointments was the bottle deposit scheme. I had just got back from my mail

route, when I opened up a Pepsi. I was relaxing on my couch when my neighbor,

Kramer barged in to borrow a spatula. Kramer is 6’ 5, clumsy, and has a fine taste in

vintage clothing. He found the spatula underneath a pile of mutilated coupons. On his

way out, I asked him to throw away the Pepsi can for me. He acted as if I were crazy.

Then he proceeded to tell me how a bottle deposit worked. I had no idea I could get

money back just for returning old cans. Now it made sense to me why the homeless

collect them. I always just assumed they were deranged. I was reading the back of

the can when I realized that Michigan had a ten cent marking next to it. Why should

Michigan get ten cents per can while the rest of the states get five cents? I asked

Kramer if we could take a bunch of our cans from here to Michigan to make a profit,

but he said it wouldn’t work. He said we would overload our inventory, and then blow

our margins on gas. I realized he was right. Driving from Manhattan to Michigan would

be expensive, but I became obsessed with the idea of making a profit from it.


I was thinking about it late at night when it hit me. A mail truck, I could use a

mail truck! Whenever there is an upcoming holiday, my local post office sends out

extra mail trucks. On Valentine’s day we send three trucks. On Christmas, four. But on

mothers day (the mother of all mail days) we send a grand total of six trucks. Mothers

day isn’t for another week, so those trucks are just sitting around waiting to be used. It

seemed perfect. We load the truck up, the federal government pays for the gas, we

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turn in the cans in Michigan, and before you know it we’re richer than King Midas. I

can still remember the look on Kramers face when I told him the good news.

“Newman, you dirty b******, you did it”.


The scheme was going smoothly. Kramer and I had spent the previous two

days scrutinizing the city gathering cans and bottles, like a squirrel gathers nuts. We

estimated that we collected around ten thousand, and we were happily on our way to

Michigan. Everything was going according to plan, that is until Jerry had to screw

everything over. Jerry Seinfeld is one of Kramer’s friends and he lives in our apartment

building. He acts friendly at first but he has been a thorn in my side for years. Any

ways Jerry had just recently had his car stolen and while we were halfway through

Ohio, Kramer spotted the car and recognized the license plates. Due to Kramer’s kind

heart and weak mind, he took us off course (much to my opposition) to follow Jerry’s

car. However the car was cruising at a velocious speed and we couldn’t keep up with

it. We were carrying to much weight. Kramer told me to take the wheel, but I didn’t

have much of a choice because he just got up out of his seat and went to the back of

the truck. When I saw the crazy look in his eyes, I knew what he was attempting to do. I

sat their driving the postal truck moaning in sorrow, while Kramer opened up the back

hatch and started throwing bags of our recyclable containers out of the truck. Horns

were honking, cars were swerving, and when every single can was jettisoned, the

truck still was too heavy. That’s when Kramer selfishly pulled over and kicked me out

of the truck. He sped away and I was left on the side of the highway in a haze of

ferocity.


And here I am, a week later, still sulking over my great loss. I had to hitch hike

home but the police ended up retrieving Jerry’s car with the help of Kramer.

Nevertheless, the Michigan bottle deposit scheme was foiled. Mark my words

Seinfeld, your sarcastic reign of tyranny will crumble and fall, and when you’ve

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become nothing but a speck of dust, the slime of humanity will envelop and drown out

your cries for help, and there I’ll be, in all my unparalleled glory, laughing at your

feeble mindedness while you......Ooh I forgot to send my Mothers day card!