I freely admit that for most of my life I have been a non conformist.
I do not like fitting into the everyday mold of life. As mold goes. Jello or the ones ya find in your basement.
Nope….I tend to follow my own path. If it seems right….do it.
Of course I’m NOT a radical when it comes to non conformity. There ARE certain rules I DO follow. Like I’d never run a red light…um….usually…er….unless it’s two o’clock in the morning and no cars are in sight, I’m on a back road, and I say to myself, “Ok…like who’s gonna know.”
BUT…..there are occasions when I err in judgement and DO break the “so-called” rules of life.
Such was the case today when we did our usual every other week trek to the town dump. Or, as the town officials like to refer to it as…….”the recycling center.”
I might add that my other half feels it necessary to wash her hair, put on new nail polish, and lipstick and her best jeans and sweatshirt to attend this event. It’s a woman thing I guess. Maybe it’s the “macho” effect of it all.
You know, like seeing hefty guys in coverall pants and Daniel Boone hats directing the activities. As well as the essence of fermenting trash wafting through the morning morning air. A turn on for any woman……I guess.
Anyhow, at our facility, and I use the term “facility” lightly as our “facility” consists of an old garage, three clearly labeled dumpsters in which one has to sort out the trash from the recyclables, and yet two more dumpsters which handle big trash like TV’s, old lawnmowers, large unidentified objects and also a perfect place for the Mafia to dump a body
So, one has to have some level of intelligence when visiting the town dump. Ya can’t just drive up there in your pickup, throw everything into one dumpster, and be off.
Although I do think they should have like a drive-thru dumpster or something. You know, like just flipping trash outta your window and be off.
Nope, ya gotta separate trash. All in the name of recycling of course. Which, I have absolutely no problem with, until………..
Until, in a moment of insanity, I throw one bag of trash into the wrong dumpster.
YES! I committed the crime of all crimes. Punishable by death.
Well, maybe not death, but a crime noticable enough to warrant my other half screaming out loud, ‘NO! NO! NO! You’re throwing that bag into the wrong dumpster!!!!!” As the bag was in mid-air at the time I committed the crime.
With, I might add, no chance of retrieving it.
So, as I stood there watching the bag float in mid-air, (I practice my “shot-put” skills doing that) I sheepishly turned around and noticed that everyone froze in their tracks as she was yelling out to me.
I expected alarms to go off, trash police to converge on the premises, and my butt hauled away to an interrogation room where several burly guys reeking of coffee grounds and banana peels would grill me for hours as to why I committed such a huge infraction.
As I said earlier, if you were paying attention, I have no problem with recycling my trash. But, that said, which I just did, like who’s gonna know if I throw the wrong bag into the wrong dumpster?
Until my other half lets the world know I did.
So now that I’ve broken the dumpster recycling law, thanks to my other half blabbing it out for the world to hear, I’m assuming I’ll forever be under the watchful eye of the trash police every time I go to the dump.
I’ll be hauling bags of trash to the dumpster well aware of the whispers and leer looks I’ll be getting, just waiting for me to screw up.
This of course puts a lot of pressure on me. It now requires me to actually think before I throw a bag of trash into a dumpster. Do I have the right dumpster? Do I have to check each bag before I throw it? What if in error I put a can into the cardboard dumpster by mistake? Is a banana considered a recyclable or trash? And if I admit I put something into the wrong trash bag, will they confiscate it, conduct a through search of the contents, and find other stuff?
I’m going to become paranoid going to the dump from now on.
So I gave all of this some serious thought.
Secondly, camouflage my trash bags so ya can’t see what’s inside of them. Meaning, no more white bags….just black ones.
Thirdly, and most importantly, use diversion tactics BEFORE throwing my trash into those dumpsters.
Like sauntering up to the those guys watching me like a hawk and plopping all of the past few months of my Playboy Magazines on a table outside of their office and while their ogling the centerfolds, I can then quickly throw my trash anywhere I want to….and, in ANY dumpster. Who’s gonna know.
Brilliant plan…..ya think!
It’s either that or go into full commando mode and sneak into the trash facility in the dead of night, climb the fence, and dump stuff into any dumpster at my heart’s content.
I kinda like that last option the best.
Defiance in the face of authority.
Which includes my blabbermouth other half.
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