Thursday, July 25, 2013

Trash Day

            “So everybody has problems,” said Roger, “and that’s not my problem.”

            Roger flipped the garbage can over into the back of the garbage truck and pounded on the side to make sure all the bits of refuse made it into the truck.

            “Yeah, I know everybody has problems. That’s not what I’m talking about. What I’m saying is that even with all these problems people have, in general, how do two people seem to meet, fall in love, get married and all that crap,” asked Nate.

            Nate stood next to the compactor lever waiting for Roger to finish with the trash can so he could smash the leftovers of people’s lives. People’s garbage always smelled like orange peels and banana peels mixed with piss to Nate. Roger pulled the trash can from the back of the garbage truck and shoved it back toward the end of the driveway where it came from.
            “Are you serious? Last I knew, Women’s Lib changed how it’s all supposed to be between men and women. What the hell do we know about love or relationships anymore,’ asked Roger.

            Nate flipped the compactor lever as Roger stepped up onto the rider’s platform. He gave a whistle to Big Connie who was driving the garbage truck and they lurched forward toward the next set of garbage cans along Plainview Street.

            “I just thought that maybe I’d’ve met someone special by now, you know,” said Nate over the roar of the compactor and the diesel engine.  
            “What happened with that blonde girl,” asked Roger.
            “She had problems that weren’t compatible with my problems I guess,” said Nate.

            The garbage truck pulled up to the next house and stopped. Roger and Nate hopped off and headed toward the two trash cans at the end of the driveway. As they approached Nate stopped and nudged Roger in the arm.

            “You hear that,” asked Nate.
            Roger craned his neck toward the house at the end of the driveway.

            “Wow, sounds like a helluva an argument going on in there,” said Roger.
            “Yeah,” said Nate.

            They slowly grabbed the garbage cans and quietly moved them toward the truck while trying to listen to the fight going on inside the house.

            “See, that’s what I’m saying,” half whispered Nate.
            “What,” asked Roger.
            “Those two people, having that argument in there, they both got problems of their own and they have their shared problems as a couple. And even though they’re arguing now, I bet tonight, after work, they’ll apologize and make up like lovers are supposed to,” said Nate.
            “Have you been drinking in the mornings,” asked Roger.
            “No. I’m just feeling…lonely I guess,” said Nate.
            “You’re always feeling lonely. Every time you meet a girl you get so excited and you think that this girl is going to be the one. The special one to settle down with, but as soon as things get a little too serious, you dump her like an orphan on family day,” said Roger as her lifted the garbage can into the back of the truck.

            “I do frigging not,” protested Nate, “I tell girls that I like them, that I really like them and I think they’re special and cool and that I want to spend a lot more time with them and they just aren’t interested in that. They just want to party, or screw around or do whatever it is that girls do before they meet the douche bag they end up marrying and being miserable with.”

            Nate dumped his trash can in the back of the truck as Roger operated the compactor lever. Nate grabbed both trash cans and pulled them back toward the end of the driveway. The argument in the house seemed to have quieted.

            “I don’t know what to tell you man. Your problems, are everybody’s problems. I mean every single person in the world has these problems. I dated forever before I met my wife,” said Roger.
            “But I bet you knew she would be the woman you would marry the moment you met her,” said Nate.

            Roger whistled to Big Connie and the garbage truck shifted into gear and moved toward the next house on the street.

            “Well,” asked Nate.
            “Yeah. I knew the moment I laid eyes on Karen’s blue eyes that she’d be the woman I’d spend the rest of my life with,” smiled Roger.
            “See… so what’s so wrong with me and the girls I meet. I’ve had that feeling a bunch of times,” said Nate.
            “Maybe that’s the problem. I never really had that feeling until I met Karen,” said Roger.

            Big Connie stopped the truck at the next house and Roger hopped off and walked toward the trash cans and some cardboard boxes along the street. Nate stood on the side of the truck and wondered that maybe it was his problem after all. A car backed out of a driveway down the street and honked. Nate absently waved at the driver and stepped over toward Roger to help him with the garbage. 

No comments:

Post a Comment