Trashy

My neighbors must think I’m trashy.

I don’t even have a car on blocks in my front yard nor a dilapidated washer on my front porch (though I would like to have a goat staked out and grazing). I’ve not painted the house purple, I don’t have old tires holding a tarp down on my roof and the grass isn’t knee high.

But my neighbors, or at least one of them, think I’m trashy.

I don’t have garbage service. I take my trash to the dumpster at my office. So, I don’t have one of those big, green trashcans the 88461058waste management company gives you.

Every Thursday the streets in the neighborhood appear to be decorated for St. Patrick’s day. Green trashcans are everywhere. At the end of the day everyone collects them and brings them back in.

Except one person.

I think they are trying to be a good neighbor. But they are driving me crazy.

Every Thursday evening upon returning home, there is a big, green trashcan parked directly in front of my front door. I take it back to the street and park it away from my house. The next morning it is back.

Either that trashcan is awfully fond of me or someone thinks it belongs to me.

I put it back in the street and it mysteriously disappears until the next Thursday.

There’s probably another neighbor who wonders why I keep stealing their trashcan…

3 responses to “Trashy

  1. Now what have I told you about talkin’ so much trash on your blog!?

  2. This is pretty amusing. I bet they think they are being very helpful, too.

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