Earlier today we had a family meeting where we trash-talked some of the neighbors. Honesty is an important quality. We are really good at it here because we practice it a LOT. Loudly.
The neighborhood family we are focusing on this week are a bag of idiots. They put out a post-apocolyptic charcoal grill for the trash pickup about 3 weeks ago and it is still there. Why? Why is it still there? Because the trash people don’t pick up grills. It’s a thing. People KNOW that. It's like 'not swallowing the toothpaste.' Sanitation engineers also do not pick up large metal or plastic items. There is a big plastic tub sitting next to the stupid grill.
We decided to be the bigger people and go sort the situation out. I get REALLY irritable when I have to look at other people’s ugly shit. So, this had to be done. We also decided to bring out trash bags incase we happen upon additional trash. Like the trash that seems to be cascading out of those asshats home and on to the communal landscaping on a regular basis. Hate them. They should be dead from the lack of nutrition evident in their litter.
We cunningly moved their stupid grill to another neighbors trash collection. Trash pickup is tomorrow. The other neighbors would not like that this happened but they made the mistake of going to the beach. I promise to learn the beach neighbors names again when they come back. I don’t know what my problem is - they have lived there for 8 years and still I go blank on their names. I just remember that their youngest kid - the one that hits trees with sticks to destress - has an Irish mafia IRA name. #signs
I’m about 98% sure that the garbage men are going to be like “oh look, someone has moved all the old non-sorted ghetto trash from that curb to this curb. Isn’t that adorable?” And gleefully leave the shit right where it is while jumping back on to the truck all dancy-dance Gene Kelly style.
Rejection is so cold.
Okay it hasn’t happened yet - but I BET YOU it will.
After dealing with shit-that-is-not-my-fault and for-which-I-should-not-have-to-witness-or-deal-with … we went around the neighborhood picking up scattered trash like some weird religious group on a merit badge quest.
This is the fault of David Sedaris, of course.
Incidentally he got a trash truck named after him. I suspect he had some influence on the final name.
Yenny won the ‘most interesting find’ award in our garbage picking. Here we were thinking that we lived in this quaint little village, with the parades and the flags and the generous sidewalks for the walking of dogs. Yenny finds (and oddly reads) this trash.
So I looked it up on the internet, as you do... and they directed me to Officer.com who gave me slightly more disturbing information.
NOTE: At first glance I read this section to be "Intimate Apparel & Accessories" (I am still twitching from that horror). I also took a nano-second to be all like "Jesus- even prisoners have better undergarments than I do." Then back to twitching again. Then I read it correctly.
So yeah, Yenny won most interesting trash find for like the DECADE. And now none of us will be sleeping very soundly. Where the heck do I live that I have this kind of trash? sheesh. You probably have this in your neighborhood and don't know it. And probably worse stuff, too. :) g'night!