I fancy myself a creative person and decided since nobody is tapping my ass I should tap into my creativity. Please, please, get your mind out of the gutter. I’m talking about crafts.
I once took up scrapbooking and spent a lot of money on it. Then, one day, the city sewer line broke and backed up in my basement. As a result, sheet protectors turned into shit protectors, I learned a lot of my neighbors are vegetarians, and all of the money I invested in scrapbooking ended up going down the drain, literally. Thus, I haven’t engaged in this activity for years. The other day I decided it might be time to engage in crafts again and looked around the house for something I could do with my existing goods.
I lucked out, in that I decided to do a craft that involved carafes of sorts – something of which I have plenty. Unfortunately, not all of them were empty and, although I enjoy drinking, I’m not a binge drinker. I needed a plan B. As I pondered this, I came up with plan DD: dumpster diving.
Tree stopped by to hang out, so I invited him to join me, “Want to dumpster dive with me?” He replied, without hesitation, “Of course! I haven’t done that since I used to get really high.”
This first glass recycling dumpster we dove into didn’t have much to offer, so we drove to a bigger, and what turned out to be better, dumpster – I guess size does matter. We found a few bottles that were really great and really deep into the pile. Tree put his experience to work and hoisted himself into the dumpster for retrieval. Just when we were about to leave, a couple drove up with boxes of bottles. “Do you mind if I rummage through your box?” I asked and then, seeing their amazing wares, asked another question, “How often do you guys come here?” “Just when these are full,” the man replied. “How often are they full?” Tree asked under his breath.
As we were getting in the car, they began throwing their bottles in the container. The first shot, by the boy, didn’t go in the hole, rather, broke, then repelled off the bin in several directions. “This is rather entertaining. In fact, seeing what people drink and watching them take out their frustrations in the bin may be better than people watching at the airport,” I told Tree. He agreed and we watched them continue to launch their bottles in the bin. The boy occasionally made the shot, the girl never made the shot and the beer bottles continually boomeranged off the bin.
We decided it might be best to get out of there, so as to avoid being hit with their broken bottles. As we drove away, I rolled down the window and yelled, “Thanks for the bottles. See you next week.” The boy ducked to avoid the bottom of a beer bottle, looked our way, waved and said, “See you next week!”