Every Thursday morning, I go to fetch the garbage can and discover dog pee. The garbage collectors leave the can on its side. The neighbors dog pees on the inside. I pick up the can, the pee runs to the bottom of the can in an odiferous wash. (Picking up the can from the bottom lets the pee into a crevice from which it is difficult to extract it.)
Hosing dilutes the pee but does not eradicate it. Winter is coming and hosing will be a problem.
It would probably be unreasonable to take the garbage can and pour the dog pee on the neighbor’s car upholstery, right? Yeah, I thought so.
Have you tried talking to your neighbors?
Or leaving a six-pack on top of your garbage can with a note asking the garbage collectors to please leave the thing standing up after they go?
How very typical of bourgeois attitudes toward the working class! A “six-pack”! Didn’t even consider a tart and sassy merlot? A snappy young chardonnay? A CD of show tunes? A couple of tickets to “The Vagina Monologues”?
Full disclosure: I have actually been a garbageman. Made as much as my salary recycling for repair appliances, TV’s, stuff like that, that weren’t really broken.
To my dying day, I will never outgrow my burning hatred for one class of person: people who dump their cat litter without bagging it, in the warm summer rain. It creates a mixture of exotic hyrdrocarbons and methane that you cannot imagine.
If you do this to your garbageman, and he cores you with a corkscrew, and I’m on the jury…he walks.
