Tuesday, February 07, 2012

Slam! Bam! The garbage can! Our Trashy Story


Crash! Bam! The garbage can!
Not out! Run! Run! No time! Damn!
We missed the truck—again.


I posted this haiku on Facebook this morning. But there’s more to the story.

The community cans.
We live in an involuntary garbage commune, sharing the three garbage cans behind our rented house with the two guys who live in the garage apartments over the garage. (We share that as well.)  We’ve never discussed garbage rules, we all three just do it. Somehow the full cans get down to the street late Sunday night (usually Michael) or early, early Monday morning (usually either Bob or me). After the truck comes, and we must be the first stop, someone goes down and fetches them. Works well.
Except yesterday. Sunday night both the apartment fellows were gone. We had dinner guests. Certainly, no can down before they came. After they left, two sleepy people did most of the clean-up—lots of trips out to the cans, but not to the curb.
I've rooted celery.
Why not a turnip?
Monday morning, as usual I was up at dawn. Cans, thought I, must get them down to the curb—in a little while. I read the thin-as-usual Houston Chronicle, picked up a little more, got the dinner linens into the washer, and was contemplating rooting a left-over turnip when I heard the truck gobbling garbage down the street and heading our way. Now!
The can next door---
they made it.
“Bob, the trash! Hurry! They’re coming! Now!” I yelled at Bob who was at his computer waking up as I headed for the back door. I’m glad we don’t have a picture of that. I was in my fuzzy black house shoes, my pando, excuse me, panda pajamas, and a University of Houston Cougar sweatshirt. Bob was similarly stylishly clad. We ran. We did not make it. We stood and surveyed our neighbors’ empty cans. It was going to be an interesting (and smelly) week behind our house.
But clever Bob. Clever, clever Bob saved the day. Later in the morning when we headed out for our walk and a stop at the grocery store (I’m lucky—four in walking distance.) Bob noticed the truck hadn’t been across the street yet. He also noticed that the supposed-to-open-soon yoga studio across the street had failed to put out their can as well. Frisky as a squirrel, Bob fetched our can, rolled it across the street and saved the day.

MY HERO! 




Mission accomplished.

4 comments:

Linda Hicks said...

How fine to root a turnip and get the garbage emptied as well. We have the same garbage day, I think. People put out the garbage the night before and never have to worry! But I understand!

Trilla said...

Just one of those days.

Anonymous said...

Trilla, you are not only alert but you are also FAST. You and Bob obviously make a good team. Our recycling and our trash and our brush days are all the same day ( a new twist ). We are always scurrying but manage to get ours out the night before - usually. You made this story FUN. Sherron

Nancy M said...

Wonderful story! Yes, I know the panic. Our garbage is picked up mid-morning here, and my husband generally - well always to be truthful - gets it out.