Irish and I live in a state that pays a redemption fee for cans and bottles. There are designated bottle redemption centers, but many grocery, convenience, and drug stores also serve as mini-redemption center locations.

The practice of collecting cans and bottles from trash cans and dumpsters to get the redemption fee is known as “canning.” Some people go canning during the day, while others prefer to wait until night. They’re either too ashamed to be seen canning or want to be sure homeowners are asleep and unlikely to yell at them for rummaging through their garbage and recycling cans.

Some who live in this city really hate canners. They sabotage their efforts by ruining labels on bottles, completely crushing aluminum cans, or cutting up plastic bottles. This is so the machines at the redemption centers will reject the bottles and cans. The sole motivation is to prevent someone who’s homeless from getting any money from recycling.

Redemption fees add up quickly. It’s what many of the homeless in our city depend on for money. For more than two years, canning was what Irish did to bring in money each day.

Bottle Drops

After he was done canning, I often accompanied Irish to the redemption centers, which everyone refers to as “bottle drops.” There’s a daily limit of redemption fees that a single person can collect — not every redemption center employee enforces it, but some do.

Irish always collected well over the daily limit of cans and bottles, so he needed me as a second person to be able to collect the full amount of money without any issues.

As you might imagine, the bottle drop clientele are a mixed bunch. The majority of those in line are unhoused. Some are elderly people supplementing their income. Others are from low-income households.

While those who are more well-off do come to the bottle drops, they tend to park, deposit their green bags into the secure door drops, and have their redemption fees deposited into their online accounts. No standing in line for them. They don’t need that money to make it to the next day.

Overheard in Line

On one beautiful, warm day, Irish and I were in line behind an especially colorful fellow. After a few minutes, I pulled out my phone and began typing furiously to capture as much of what he was saying as I could. I was bored, and it reminded me of how one of the authors of “Rants From Mommyland” used to write down things whenever she overheard crazy conversations.

This is what I was able to record as we waited in line.

  • I know where the head of BPA lives. If you get me in a car I can show you where.  I can take you right there. 
  • I’ve done everything that’s cool. I really have.
  • I don’t take my clothes off. My stripper name was Peanuts. I just don’t take my clothes off.
  • I haven’t taken a shower in a year and I don’t stink. (I’m pretty sure he did.)
  • It’s like look at my mom. How does it feel to take a shower every day?
  • I can paint anything.   That’s unique, right?  I set up a totem pole yesterday.
  • To me: You have a phone that works? Can you call my daughter real quick? Its xxx-xxx-xxxx.  Just tell her that her dad says “hi.” (I did not call her.)
  • Everybody loves being around me. I’m not judgemental.  I’m a lover, not a hater.
  • I blame my parents.
  • How do they paint their mailbox?
  • Then we pulled over and we all saw that mailbox that said “killers” and it was like oh shit.
  • Don’t be in a hurry. I hate people in a hurry. It’s like, what’s really going on? Hurry up and wait.
  • To a young woman walking by: I was like your shirt. (There was nothing special about the t-shirt other than it was tight, and there were young tits in it.)
  • To a guy getting in his car wearing a shirt with a Fred Meyer logo sewn onto it: You work for Fred Meyer?  Ha ha!  I respect that.

There was more but he turned on his portable radio, and the sound drowned out most of what he said for the remainder of our time in line.

We Remember the Canners

We don’t buy many drink products from the grocery store because they tend to be things like sodas. But sometimes we splurge. When we do, I always rinse the cans or bottles and collect them in a plastic bag.

Once it’s full, I tie the bag closed and have Irish take it down to place next to our building’s dumpster. Sometimes he takes it out the front door to put it next to the trash can at the corner.

We know people look for cans around here, so we do our part to make it a little easier on them.