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Attack of the Binmen
In our last flat we had the luxury of a large communal bin area where we could just dump rubbish on an ongoing basis and not really worry about when it got picked up. (And to be honest I never did really figure out when the council came - it seemed to be very much on an ad-hoc basis, but certainly it was commendably regular).
However, now we find ourselves adjusting to the routine of a weekly pickup again, having to make sure that the recycling is gathered up into the lurid orange bags provided for this purpose, and that the main refuse is dumped down in the whelie bins outside the house.
ANd every Monday morning as I leave for work I am invariably faced with the job of falling over the bin, muttering dark words and putting it back in its place after the collection has happened. Every week I’ve had the same gripe: why can’t the bin men just put it back where they found it?
Today though I left the house to find it in exactly the same place it was left. For a moment I assumed it hadn’t been emptied, but a quick check reassured me on this point and so with a shrug I stepped into the street to head off on my merry way.
Only to discover that everyone else’s bins were as out of place as normal. It was only ours that had been put back in its place.
This strikes me as very odd behaviour. I mean… it’s a very odd way of victimising someone isn’t it?
Posted on August 4, 2008 | Filed Under My So-Called Life
Comments
Response left by Pandemonia on August 5th, 2008
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Obviously someone cares…
Though they’re probably covered in sh*t, so don’t get your hopes up.
Every silver lining has a cloud.