Our apartment complex has an alleged amenity known as "valet trash". Five nights each week the valet climbs every stairway to retrieve bagged trash from our front doorways. We will not discuss my complaints about the trash truck's blaring radio in the wee hours, or the way the valet guy bashed the holiday lights on the stair rail. Tonight we are focused on your freedom to disregard the directions.
The lease instructions are pretty clear that trash haulers will pick up bagged garbage. The hauler will place your bag-o-trash into one of the two giant bags hanging from his shoulder yoke, and then run back down the stairs to the pickup truck with the blaring music.The haulers will not take garbage they can't grab, such as your chip box and giant detergent bottle.
If the "waste concierge" cannot grab and lift your garbage, it will be left outside your door. Tonight. And tomorrow night. And the next night.... If you set out a bag of used Pampers next to the chip box and laundry detergent bottle the stair-climbing garbage bag retriever will collect the bag, but leave the other stuff.
That windy day all your trash in the paper sack inside the chip box blew away, floating like rabid jellyfish around the apartment complex until it snagged on that tree by the creek. When it rained the napkins and paper towels became lumps of papier mache on the stairs. Heaven knows what critter's been gnawing on those paper plates.
You have the spine of Ted Cruz, the spleen of Sara Palin, and the spittle of Donald Trump. You will not back down. You will not squash the box and bottle and stuff them in a garbage bag. You will not bow to the federal government, and just carry the stuff the half block to the dumpster.
© 2013-2016 Nancy L. Ruder
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