The Midnight Bandit

Last night, late at night, I was awakened. Bob had checked the weather and determined that the overnight high was only going to be 73, so he turned off the A/C and opened our windows.

Out the windows, I heard the distinct clinking of empty soda cans. Enter the Soda Can Recycler. This has happened at least once before, where I notice that all the soda cans from my recycling bin have disappeared, but the garbage/recycling truck hasn't yet come by. So, of course, nosy woman that I am, I (first woke up Bob and then) hopped out of bed and joined Lily at the window to see who was out there.

I had suspected, as one of my FB friends had suggested, that it was a guy who rides around town on a bicycle, often pulling a trailer of recyclables. I was wrong. It was a large woman with a very small dog, armed with nothing but a large black garbage bag. I give her props for her thoroughness. She went through every single item in both the recycling bins. (Yes, I watched the whole thing.) (Lucky for me, I'd left the front porch light on, so the action was somewhat lit.) And then she and her dog disappeared into the night.

I think I may begin doing what my brother-in-law does: just completely separate all the cans so it's one-stop-shopping for the Soda Can Recycler.

*(I prefer to sort all my recycling, and I do, in the house, but then I throw it all in the bins together for the garbage/recycling truck. I wish our town required sorting, but they actually discourage it. Go figure.)