Discourse

I typed out the passcode and directions on my light tan 1960’s Smith Corona manual typewriter. It’s a solid metal beast that kills your fingers to type on but it’s also offline and untraceable. They made millions of these things and there’s no records of where any of them ended up so even in the absolute worst case that this note is found by the wrong people, there’s no way to know where it came from. I wear gloves and am careful not to touch the page with my fingers then crumple the page up and put it into a small plastic grocery store  bag that’s filled with a bunch of other trash, I top it off with a banana peel and a cup of wet coffee grounds. This ensures that any trashpicker who finds it ignores it completely. It looks like leftovers from yesterdays lunch. I tie the plastic bag up and head out to the playground near Okachobee park. On the north side of the sandy area there’s a fire extinguisher in the wall, the kind with the frosted glass door. I put the trash bag in there. This is a good spot because it won’t look out of place, but it also won’t last forever. If it isn’t picked up in 48 hours or so the parks & rec cleaning crew will grab it and it’ll disappear forever so my risk is limited.  But that shouldn’t happen because this is expected. I sit by the playground for a few minutes so as not to seem suspicious and then eventually leave. On the way out make sure to go by the park hours sign located next to the parking lot entrance, there’s a small black magnet on the back of the sign, I move it to the front. This is will let them know the package is waiting to be picked up. Now I just wait.