Woman on the Edge

Guard Wife is a woman on the edge.  Under the rules of nature, the bar exam induces insanity on a sliding scale.  The closer the applicant is to the bar exam, the closer she is to total insanity.  Here, Guard Wife is this close to taking the bar exam.  Therefore, Guard Wife meets the common law standard of a woman on the edge.

Unfortunately, the bar examiners do not provide us with yard signs or t-shirts proclaiming our fragile mental status to those who may dare to tread into the zone of danger.  Case in point:  the garbage collectors in my city.

I have a curbside garbage can, provided by the city, that preceded my ownership of this property.  I've lived here nearly 10 years.  So, you can imagine.  It's seen better days and it pales in compairson to the snazzy new trash cans everyone on my street has that are emblazoned with the city's logo, etc.  I do what I can to keep it nice...I've even chased it down the street in the middle of the night in a driving rainstorm wearing only a t-shirt, unders and flip-flops...I care that much.

And, I have a hypersensitivity to smells.  I can smell a natural gas leak that the monitoring equipment can barely detect.  I also try to take care of those who take care of me--like my garbage men.  I even buy kitty litter during the summer to put in the curbside garbage can to keep it smelling okay and we don't have cats. 

However, my garbage men are, for the lack of a better word,  uppity.  I don't know how else to explain it.  We try to recycle and the like and have, on more than one occasion, had our recyclables left at the curb because we had too much cardboard or it wasn't bundled to their "specifications" that no one can seem to produce when I request them. 

We're not friends, by any means.  And, did I mention I have PMS and bar exam induced insanity?

So, you can imagine today when I went to retrieve my mail and saw a BRIGHT orange hang tag on the handle of the garbage can.  It was a hang tag that provides a list of the myriad of reasons why the garbage men didn't take your garbage...except none of the boxes were checked and they did take my garbage. 

As I removed the card, I saw scrawled on the back in elementary-schoolish script, "This can STINKS."

Really?

Does a garbage can full of a week's worth of household garbage that has sat in the sweltering, 90-degree heat for seven days smell? 

Wow.  Who would have thought that was a possibility?!

Granted, Hubs pulled a truly boneheaded move of cleaning out some items from our deep freeze a day or two ago and putting them in the garbage can.  Yeah--not bright.  You and I realize this, don't we.  He, however, didn't mention it until I wondered aloud why I was having to re-up the kitty litter application yesterday.  Dumb move to be sure, but this is how he sometimes chooses to roll--usually when I'm incapable of putting up an effective fight.

Which brings us to today.  To say I was livid would be an understatement.  It just caught me on the wrong day, in the wrong week, of the wrong month in the midst of a personal trial best described as an unending fraternity hazing incident gone horribly wrong. 

The hang tag had the number of the Sanitation Supervisor on it.  I called him.  I was very polite.  At first.  However, when he told me he didn't see what the "big deal" was and didn't understand what there was to be upset about, I became less so.

"Everyone has a job to do ma'am.  We're just trying to do ours," he drawled in his patronizing, we're-garbage-men-so-don't-diss-us tone.

"I realize that, sir.  But, I was under the impression that it is a garbage collector's job to collect the garbage.  I was not aware it was within the scope of his employment to leave editorial comments on my garbage can."  I replied.

"Well, ma'am.  That garbage can is city property.  And, if you are maintaining that city property in a substandard manner, which I'm assuming it is because it would have to have been unusually smelly for them to have left a note, it's your responsibility to fix it.  We wash our garbage trucks out everyday."

"Your garbage trucks are also empty every day, aren't they.  Are you telling me that I'm in violation of a city ordinance of some kind or that I'm being cited in some way?"

"No."

"Then, let me be clear when I say that if I am licensed to use the city's property for the collection of garbage so that it may be picked up by the city and I am maintaining that property to the best of my ability given the age of the garbage can and the weather conditions, I do NOT expect there to be communication from the trash man on the can."

"If you're maintaining your property in substandard condition, ma'am..."

"I thought we just decided this is city property.  If it's in substandard condition, I suppose the city should be the ones receiving the nasty grams."

::crickets::

"How's about this?"  I say...really pissed now.  "I'll go ahead and set my alarm next Friday so that I can meet the garbage man at the end of my driveway to be sure that my garbage is up to his exacting standards for removal."

"We'll look forward to seeing you there, ma'am."  Amused, like the asshole he apparently is (in my opinion).

"I don't think you will."  And I hang up.

But, then I think better of it.  I think.  You know what?  It isn't my fault this garbage can is "substandard"; and isn't it fun that he used that verbage with me? And won't it be fun when I go to the city offices to inform the lady at the information desk that I've been told by someone in the sanitation supervisor's office that my garbage can is substandard so can I please have a brand, spanking new one?

So, after dumping about a gallon of vinegar into my trash can, rinsing and dumping it out (MESS beyond all human comprehension) and putting in fresh kitty litter, I did some mom errands.  (Note to self:  Wear GLOVES when you do this next time!)

On the way home, I stopped at the city office.  I was super nice and asked about the process involved in procuring a new trash can.  The city lady asked if mine were broken.  I told her no, but that it smells.

She said, "Well, hon, it is a garbage can and it is summer." I told her I agreed with her completely and that's why I take the trouble of putting in kitty litter, rinsing it, etc. but that the garbage man had left me a handwritten note on my can regarding the "stink" and in calling the sanitation office, I was told it was pretty much my problem.  I told her he'd used the word "substandard" which suggested to me there IS a standard for garbage cans and I take my legal obligations to the city and my property very seriously.  I WANT to be a good homeowner--I LOVE (insert my city name here) and I've lived her nearly a decade.

As I'm telling her about the note, her demeanor changes completely.  It dawns on me that she's heard this before.  It becomes quickly apparent that she thinks this was BS (maybe because she said so out loud) and tells me she will register my concern/complaint with their boss because "This goes way beyond the scope of their duties."  Ya think?!

Anyway, when I got home, my can didn't smell anymore...imagine that.  Garbage gone = smell gone.  Funny how that works. 

Is it juvenile of me to want to buy BRIGHT orange posterboard and put it on my garage door next Friday morning?  I've dreamed up ALL kinds of messages for it.

#1:  SO DO YOU.

#2:  YOU AND YOUR MOM.

#3:  A FOX SMELLS ITS OWN HOLE.

But, now, I think it might read:  "YOU'RE WELCOME."

Heh.

Comments

[airforcewife]

As the daughter of a City Manager, I URGE you to call your City Manager to register the complaint. They most seriously HATE hearing this kind of crap, and will do anything to get you off their back.

The garbage men will be smacked good and proper, in a way that a city clerk can't manage to do.

In fact, if you can take your screaming children with you and actually make an appointment to visit the City Manager's office with pictures of your garbage can and the actual note you were given, I can pretty much guarantee you that a government employee butt kicking will be in the works. You might even get an apology.

But seriously, anything less than the City Manager's office and they will most likely pretend it isn't happening.

[Guard Wife]

The more I thought about it, the madder I became.

How does this guy know that it isn't a handicapped child or spouse's dirty diapers or soiled clothing that made my can stink this week?

What if I lived alone and took that note as a harrassing threat from some man who knows where I live and who may be mad at me?

I am saving the hang tag and will document the incident (or include a link to my blog...LOL), make my garbage can smile pretty for the camera and write a letter after the bar. Funny how my divorce attorney is now our city solicitor. LOL

I'll likely end up with my garbage NEVER being picked up or some guy pissing in my trash can, but you know, that's what surveillance cameras are for and I have plenty of time to take care of all this since I don't have a job yet!

[TripleE]

With dog poop and diapers and whatnot in my trash can... plus the heat, I can hardly stand next to my trash can come trash day.
... but, my sanitation employees do not leave the truck, ever, they barely slow down long enough to allow the truck to automatically pick up the can and dump it... so I won't be getting one of those little notes here.

[airforcewife]

I'm still trying to figure out how someone decides a garbage can is "too stinky."

If it smelled good, I'd keep it in my house.

[Guard Wife]

I'm thinking of shooting the city manager an e-mail letting him know the basics & then promising a follow-up after Friday complete with either video and/or still shots so he can see for himself that my property is well-maintained and my garbage can is like everyone else's FULL OF GARBAGE. And, that with the trucks they have, I don't even think someone has to touch the damned can so WHO CARES?!

I'll promise him a full, written report plus the opportunity to respond prior to my posting any identifying information regarding my city on my WEBSITE. :)