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.
Sincerely,
Jen
*****
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!
