Thursday, January 26, 2012

Dear Garbie...

Dear Garbie,

Hello there! I hope that this letter finds you doing well and that you're enjoying your evening after a hard day of picking up garbage all over my sweet little town.

Look- I know that being a garbie is hard work. I know that you probably get little to no enjoyment out of your job, aside from a well-earned paycheck at the end of the pay period. I know you get home each night, and smell like ... well, probably a garbage can. I feel for you, I do, and I appreciate the fact that you perform a service that not many people would want to perform.

Sympathy aside, I'd like to get right down to business here: I would really appreciate it if you'd stop acting like a total dickhead.

The thing is, each Thursday morning, we drag our two trashcans down to the end of the driveway because we pay for a service in which you pick up the cans and empty the contents (neatly bagged and tied shut so that the contents don't spill on your fluorescent attire) into your truck. We place the trashcans in a certain spot every time - centered between the ditch and the edge of the driveway. 

Why do we place the cans there? So that we're able to maneuver our vehicles in and out of the driveway without hitting the trashcans and knocking them over. 

Imagine my frustration when I get home from work every single Thursday and find my two trashcans either A) thrown into the ditch that is 4 feet deep or B) laying on their sides across the driveway like the entrance to a really shitty gated community!

Sure, my kids get a kick out of it when we pull up and after uttering a few choice phrases, I ask if they'd like me to ram the shit out of the cans. "Yeah! Drive really, really fast Mom! Smash 'em!"

They also enjoy the sight of Mommy, launching her purse at the porch like a giant leather grenade before making her way down the gravel driveway in 3 inch heels, and attempting to pull the nasty ass trashcans out of the big ditch. 

Hell, I'm sure the neighbors enjoy seeing these things as well, though at this point they've all probably witnessed at least one of my front yard hissy fits.

You know who doesn't enjoy those things though? Me, motherfucker! The one paying for the service!  

Does it really require that much more effort for you to sit the God damn can down after you've emptied it? Are you so rushed that tossing it into the muddy, water-filled ditch is your only option? I doubt it, asshole. Mrs. D doesn't even put hers in a friggin can - and it's only 15 steps from her driveway to mine. Trust me, you can take a few seconds to do me a solid.

If you don't, then you can look forward to 7 days worth of dirty diapers dumped all loosey-goosey across the top of each can for the next couple of weeks, like sprinkles on a sundae but disgusting and completely unsanitary.

Consider this your one warning. Get your shit together, please; otherwise, I'll make your job suck even more than I'm sure it already does.




Just a reminder to check out yesterday's post and leave a comment to be included in the running for a giveaway from each of the ole blog's 4 sponsors! Winners will be announced on Saturday evening!

Good news - tomorrow's Friday! Try not to kill anyone between now and then, friends!