Just Another Day in Paradise
One day, while walking down the streets of my neighborhood in Jamaica Plain (a tiny little piece of Boston), I overheard some scruffy, street dwellers talking about all the cans they found that day. At one point, after hearing that one of the guys made $5.50 in can money, the other guys replies, "Somebody's gettin' fucked up tonight!" And they were being serious.
Well turns out that most of those guys find most of their cans at my building's dumpster. Every morning I wake up to the dumpster melodies of the men looking for their aluminum booze money right outside my window. I don't use an alarm clock. I just wait for the dumpster to start ringing clickity clank and I get up, stretch and remember that SOMEBODY'S GETTIN' FUCKED UP TONIGHT.
Well I guess the dumpster boys have started quite the trend because my dumpster seems to be the hot spot in town lately. And not just for cans. But, for anything and everything.
I think it's important for me to give you all a mental peek.
Around 5PM I heard a familiar noise coming from outside. I opened the window to get a better look.
I notice a sweet van that I have never seen in these parts before and a man who I know does not live in the building.
I wondered if the back was packed with 5 or 6 illegal immigrants.
It wasn't. It was packed with stuff from the dumpster.
Wow, that back seat looks pretty packed up with stuff. He's probably got everything he needs. No?
Oh I see. he brought his dumpster sword. He is what my mother would call rummaging. I wonder if all the good stuff was at the bottom like a crackerjack box or an ice cream sundae.
His dumpster sidekick told him he needed to dig a little deeper for the good stuff. He wanted the ladies to reward him for all the good treasures he was about to bring home, right?
Sidekick shows him all the beautiful things he has found today.
They have done well. It is time to retire. Coronas for everybody.
It's just another day in paradise as the South Street dumpster allows two more to get fucked up tonight.
Well turns out that most of those guys find most of their cans at my building's dumpster. Every morning I wake up to the dumpster melodies of the men looking for their aluminum booze money right outside my window. I don't use an alarm clock. I just wait for the dumpster to start ringing clickity clank and I get up, stretch and remember that SOMEBODY'S GETTIN' FUCKED UP TONIGHT.
Well I guess the dumpster boys have started quite the trend because my dumpster seems to be the hot spot in town lately. And not just for cans. But, for anything and everything.
I think it's important for me to give you all a mental peek.
Around 5PM I heard a familiar noise coming from outside. I opened the window to get a better look.
I notice a sweet van that I have never seen in these parts before and a man who I know does not live in the building.
I wondered if the back was packed with 5 or 6 illegal immigrants.
It wasn't. It was packed with stuff from the dumpster.
Wow, that back seat looks pretty packed up with stuff. He's probably got everything he needs. No?
Oh I see. he brought his dumpster sword. He is what my mother would call rummaging. I wonder if all the good stuff was at the bottom like a crackerjack box or an ice cream sundae.
His dumpster sidekick told him he needed to dig a little deeper for the good stuff. He wanted the ladies to reward him for all the good treasures he was about to bring home, right?
Sidekick shows him all the beautiful things he has found today.
They have done well. It is time to retire. Coronas for everybody.
It's just another day in paradise as the South Street dumpster allows two more to get fucked up tonight.
posted by MaineSqueeze at 2:12 PM
5 Comments:
It is getting out of control
holy shyt....!!!!!! lmao!!!
That's very unsettling.
Goddess- why is it unsettling? For these guys in the van, I think it is just a hobby. For the guys who collect the cans, it is because they are homeless which is sad. We have a lot of homeless people in Boston.
I think I'd be uncomfortable to see that going on outside my window. Plus the thought of people going through my trash creeps me out.
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