Why Trash Collectors Make $30 an Hour!

This morning I learned exactly why it is that trash collectors get paid $30 an hour. It’s hazard pay! “What sort of hazard?” you ask. Well it ain’t what’s in the trash. It’s the HUMAN hazard. We had a barbecue last Saturday to celebrate the fact that my spouse is older than me. As one might expect, we had a larger than normal amount of garbage. In fact, it didn’t all fit in one can. I was, however, kind enough to make sure that garbage that overflowed into bags was clean garbage that would hold no interest to marauding neighborhood cats. The total weight of the errant refuse? Approximately five pounds.

When the garbage man came around, the puppy which we are puppysitting for my inlaws was a bit disturbed by the commotion, so I picked her up and let her look out the window. What I saw disturbed me. After dumping the contents of our plastic can into his truck, he stepped into the cab and wrote a note. He checked a box on said note that read “Over limit”, affixed the note to one of my bags and left the three extra bags sitting on the sidewalk where I had placed them. Thankfully, he does my side of the street first. I was, in a word, LIVID.

I rushed outside, snatched the bags from the sidewalk, being sure to shout a few obscenties in the process (because after all, what good is a hissy fit without telling a guy what you think of his mother or of his parenthood or relationship skills?) and started to head to the backyard, when it occured to me that THIS day, such an action WOULD NOT STAND!

I turned around and headed across the street with the offensive sacks and sat down on the curb, preparing to do battle. In my mind I was ready for anything, but come hell or high water, that garbage was NOT going to remain in my custody. After all, this was no longer about me. I was striking a blow for people wronged EVERYWHERE! Ten minutes later, my opportunity to save mankind from the garbage Nazis came to me.

“HEY!” I shouted over the diesel motor. “Ya’ think for all the weeks I FORGET to put the garbage out that you can take my damn garbage away today?”

“I don’t make the rules”, said the man, reaching for one of my three bags.

“Yes, but just because your wife pissed you off for work this morning doesn’t mean that you should be the only trash collector for a thousand square miles that decides to enforce them!” With that, I tossed the remaining sacks of garbage past the agitated driver and into the truck, where they SHOULD have gone in the first place. Then, satisfied that I had struck a blow for humanity, I turned and walked away, never stopping to look back.

In retrospect, the guy handled the situation about as well as it could be handled. I can be quite intimidating when I’m agitated. In any case, I’m sure the guy had a few choice obscenties for me, things about my mother that were likely all true, but on this morning, he shut his mouth and curbed his temper where mine was on the verge of geting ugly. Now I know why my garbage man makes $30 an hour!