Hey do you remember me? Last night about 10 thirtyish I had just taken out my recyclables and my garbage to the curb for the morning service. You and your wife Rolled up on bikes with flashlights and you were digging through my bottles and cans. You must remember me because I yelled from the house
"be careful I think there's a broken glass out there!"
and you yelled back
"Thanks I really appreciate that sir."
I was cool with that. I mean the reason why we put our recyclables out on the curb every week, is because we would like to see them be recycled. But what I was not cool with, was waking up this morning to see hundreds of crows and squirrels in the battle of Armageddon over my garbage because you left the garbage lid open. Why were you going through my fucking garbage at all?
Thanks a lot.
Now I look like an asshole because my garbage is flying down the street with the wind. And I have to spend the rest of the day stressed out about what I threw away. Like a scratch paper I wrote my bank account number on so that I could get my mother to deposit a few checks for me one day. Or anything similar that some tweak or identity thief can use to make a few bucks off me. Well if you do remember me please come on back next week. I'll make sure to be in the shadows, drunk with a BB gun.