By Tegan O’Rourke

Plastic bags, they were everywhere. Florida was a den of sin and plastic bags. We vacationed there for only seven days but will never forget the reckless abandon of the Red State. No matter where we were, no matter what we bought we were carelessly and gleefully handed a plastic bag with it, sometimes two and we were not charged ten cents like we are in San Francisco for the paper bags.

At first we felt awful, like sinners. But after awhile we succumbed to the decadence, we became plastic bag whores. It was liberating, an orgasmic tinkling of freedom swept over me.  This is what it means to be an American!

We also didn’t notice any compost bins anywhere either. It was like the old days (just three years ago) when you just threw trash in a garbage can. Once again we were at first conflicted but since deep down we are evil, and we had tourist crap to do, we got over it and threw our trash into garbage cans.

Upon arriving back in San Francisco I headed to the Trader Joes and carried my tote to put my groceries in, my Sodom and Gomorrah vacation was over.  I was back in Blue California where if the rules weren’t followed I would face the snarky glares of my fellow yuppie peeps.