Member-only story
AGING/RETIREMENT/HUMOR/FEAR
People Keep Stealing My Garbage
And one day those people will be me.
My mom died at the end of January, and since then, I’ve been bagging and carrying and hauling and lugging a houseful of stuff to my office in town to put out at the curb, since I’ve never had garbage pick-up out here in the country and I’m not going to start now.
I’ve only gotten in trouble one time regarding my normal guerilla garbage tactics.
Okay, two times.
The first time involved a person actually confronting me about dumping a bag in their corporate parking lot bin
and the second time involved a toy alarm at the carwash that sounded like a police siren.
On trash day in the city, people in jankity pick-up trucks cruise up and down the streets looking for scrap metal. Then they take the scrap metal someplace, I have no idea where, and they sell it.
I found a guy on Facebook Marketplace who’s a scrapper to clean out my mom’s barn and haul away her five (yes, five) freezers and refrigerators.
