The Garbage Man Cometh

The night before trash day, for the last couple of weeks, I have been going out and filling up my neighbors’ trash cans with stuff from my apartment. In the course of this move, I am downsizing from a nice, two bedroom townhouse with a full basement and 1.5 bathrooms to a glorified shoe-box that will cost me 250% more in rent each month. I knew I was going to have to downsize but when I was in DC two weekends ago looking at places, I realized that my concept of smaller and the reality were vastly different. I thought I would be able to take half my stuff. I’ll be lucky to fit myself, the cats and the vast shoe collection. Maybe even bed and a martini glass if I install a really high shelf. So now, once a week, I go all covert opps and in the dead of night fill up my neighbors’ trash cans around the complex with things that have been judged
1.) non-essential for DC life;
2.) not good enough to sell;
3.) no friend has expressed a desire to have;
4.) nobody has wanted for free on Craigslist and;
5.) the thrift store rejected.
Yes, even the thrift store has standards and they are pretty high these days.

Last night it happened to be raining so I wasn’t able to put my own trash out, let alone do my usual fill up routine. I melt in non-sanitized water, etc. Everything was stacked neatly by the backdoor, ready to go out and the alarm was set for 7:45 sharp. The garbage men never come before 11:00 so I reasoned that would give me plenty of time to do my thing. But this morning, at 7:30, I was woken up by the sounds of the garbage truck in my complex. The beep beep, clank clank sound that only that truck can make as it raises and lowers the special City of Columbus distributed regulation trash cans somehow penetrated my usually hibernation quality sleep. Crap. They changed the route for the first time all year.

I dashed out of bed, desperately tried to pull my crazy bed head hair into a semblance of a pony tail, slip on tennis shoes and put on a bra at the same time. Finally, I decided to skip the bra thing. No time. In thirty seconds flat, I hauled out the back door, with all my large chested jiggle glory going on, one shoe half off and neither shoe tied, side pony tail rockin’. There I was, draggin’ the large green trash can that weighs more than my car and trying to haul a standing fan at the same time. The garbage truck was one townhouse in past mine all ready.

Me: (shouting) Mr. Garbage Man, please, sir. Mr. Garbage Man. Could you please take my garbage? I’m moving and I really need to get rid of this stuff and it was raining last night so I couldn’t put it out. (desperate shouting) Please. Pretty please. With sugar and stuff on top.

(The guy on the back of the truck who lifts the cans looks at demented old me)

Him: Nice…Trash.

Me: Um, yeah. I have more. Can you take it? (secretly thanking whatever made me wear a tight, low cut t-shirt instead of my usual big t-shirt to bed last night and that the trash guy likes big girls with the anatomy that part of the package deal)

Him: (leers and wipes drool) Happily. But make it quick.

Me: Sure thing.

I walked back to my place as quickly and as bouncily and I could. Hey, if he was taking all my trash, I reasoned I could give the Trash Pervert a little jiggle quid pro quo. Two rounds of pro quoing later, I realized I left the back door open in my haste to get the trash out. And I was down one Bionic Kitty. Sh!t. Sh!t. Sh!t!!!

For the next three hours, more or less, I looked for her. In one hand, I was shaking a tupperware container of dry cat food and in the other, I was holding another container of horrifically smelly wet liver based food Bionic only gets for a treat. I had a cat nip bag in my pocket, a long and shiny cat feather toy hanging out of my back pants pocket, and I was crawling around the apartment complex parking lot on my hands and knees, looking under everything, at anything that moved, periodically shaking the two tupperware food containers under cars and at back porch areas. Still sporting no bra and the side pony tail, I was hysterically crying and calling out for my missing cat. Oh, and doing a lot of bargaining with God. During that time period, also I think I met the multitude of neighbors I had never gotten to know in the two years I’ve lived here. While they were all sympathetic to my lost cat cause, they all looked a little askew at my Jem and the Holograms side pony tail, sans shirt, and crying for three hours look. Understandably, but I had a lost cat and had a run in with the perverted trash dude before I had even brushed my teeth for the morning. Don’t judge me. It would have been a rough morning even for Saint Oprah.

Anyway, after I had circled the entire complex on hand and knees twice, I was ready to go and start driving around to look for Bionic Kitty. I went inside, grabbed the keys and went to the car only to find Bionic Kitty sitting on the hood looking directly at me. She hadn’t been there twenty seconds earlier. She meowed once, all very, Please Take Me Inside, This is a Horrific World Out Here; Not At All The Lap Of Luxury To Which I’ve Become Accustomed. And Please Feed Me Some Cat Treats And Spoil Me Rotten For Awhile. So I did.

Oh, and I owe God no more boob quid pro quoing. Plus some other stuff that I would prefer not to mention.

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3 Responses to “The Garbage Man Cometh”

  1. me Says:

    Observed holiday on Monday, Therefore more of a rush to get extra shift in on day after holiday equals early arrival at your place.

  2. kjohnsonesq Says:

    Gah! I forgot about the holiday.

  3. Spencer Koch Says:

    i literally laughed out loud reading this one at work today…. completely ridiculous.

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