Monday is Garbage Day around here.
We're supposed to have our stuff at the curb on Garbage Eve, but I usually wait until Monday morning, because the garbage truck never comes until the afternoon. I'll hear the recycling truck go by in the morning, with its telltale clink of glass at each stop, and then I'll be reminded to take my can out to the curb. It works.
Until today.
I heard the truck arrive shortly after 9:00, but without the usual glass sound. So I ran to the window, and it was the real garbage truck. Luckily, my next door neighbor had a ton of extra junk this week, so the truck was stopped between our houses for a while. I threw on some shoes, emptied the wastebaskets, and carried my garbage can to the truck next door.
The guy was nice about it when I told him I was used to him coming in the afternoon. He said they're adjusting the timing on the route. Then he pointed out that we're supposed to have our stuff out the night before, and I said I've gotten lazy. I told him about the recycling truck, and he asked, "You use that as a signal?" Yes.
Not anymore, though. It's going to have to be Garbage Eve from now on.
3 comments:
The rats and other small rodents in your neighborhood will no doubt appreciate you for following the rules.
And so will those disgusting possums, who are so repulsive they don't deserve to be called by their proper name. Nasty things.
And mean. My lab retriever once ran towards one in my garden... The thing turned and snarled... Scared Helen, and she came running back to the house with her head down and her tail between her legs.
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