Last Friday, it was garbage day in my neighborhood. Cole and I took the garbage can out to the street nice and early. Later that day, I went to my data center and came back to the garbage can off the street. I figured that Candace took it up to the house.
But when I pulled in, I didn’t see the can there on the side of the house. (We keep it on the side because Cole’s poop+105 degrees+closed garage=a very smelly car interior.)
Candace hadn’t pulled it up to the house and it was no where to be seen. We just assumed someone didn’t want to spend the $90 for their own garbage can so they took ours and drove off. Alright, the positive part is we won’t have to move it next week when we get into our new house.
But yesterday, I come home and see our garbage can in our neighbor’s garage. They are new neighbors since Paul moved away. It’s a group of younger guys so I assumed they made a mistake and thought it was their can.
So, I went up to the door and the conversation went as follows:
“Hey, I think my garbage can may have been pulled up to your house on accident last week. If you guys just want to put it out tomorrow (other garbage day) then I’ll bring it back to my house after it is emptied.”
“Which can?”, they replied.
“The one with the wheels.”, I clarified.
“No, that’s ours. We bought it when we moved in.”
Assuming the good, I walked out there with them to be sure we were talking about the same one. Indeed we were. The one with the wheels and the name “Stucki” on it.
“Yeah, that’s ours.”, he affirmed.
It was a very strange conversation. I felt like a freshman in PE again when Darryl took my deodorant and said, “Yeah, I brought this in. My mom bought it for me.”
So, I just plan to bring the can back to our house after it is emptied today and hope that civility wins out. But if that doesn’t work, I’m going to drill a hole in the bottom put a remote detonated paint bag in the bottom of the can. If it ends up in their garage again….BOOM…a newly painted floor.