Trash (wo)man

Our family didn’t have a garbage collection service when I was growing up. Every Saturday, we loaded up our trash into the back of one of our trusty station wagons and drove it to the “dump” ourselves.

The “dump” (actually a transfer station) was only a mile or two away, but it closed at 3 on Saturdays.

Which was sometimes always a difficulty for our family.

Come 2:30 on a Saturday afternoon, Dad was running about the house hollering for us to get our trash together ’cause he had to get to the dump before it closed.

Nowadays, without kids around to do trash duty, Dad runs around collecting trash himself at 2:30 on Saturday afternoons.

I never intended to take my trash to the dump just moments before closing. I intended to get it done in plenty of time. So when I had a Tuesday off and intended to get trash taken to the transfer station in Columbus, I got started around 2:30 in the afternoon.

I knew the trash would take a while, since our recent investigation of the wooden bin-thing just off our driveway had revealed that it was stuffed full of trash (disgusting mildewy wallpaper and pop cans, gross!) I’d have to bag all that and take it with me.

My guess was absolutely right. It took me about an hour to dig out all that trash and get it bagged and into my car.

So come 3:20 or so, I came into the house, washed my hands VERY thoroughly, and ran upstairs to get the address for the transfer station.

What I discovered terrified me. The transfer station closed at…

3:45.

By now, that was 15 minutes away.

But I couldn’t let that trash sit in my car overnight. I had meetings at work the next morning and couldn’t drop it off then. And if I let it sit until my lunch break, my car would absolutely REAK!

I hopped in the car and started driving, hoping that I could find the transfer station despite it being in a part of town I’d never visited before–and wasn’t even sure I could get to.

Thankfully, the “dump” (actually a transfer station) was only a mile or two away–so even though it closes at 3:45 on weekdays, I still made it on time.

Barely.

Just like old times.

And the next morning when I opened my car, I remembered something I had forgotten from old times. Even if the garbage is only in your car for a half an hour…it’s still going to make your car reek! (Thankfully, it was *mostly* gone by the time I was done with a day of work.)