Bin Theft
June 21st 2010 21:03
Photo by Nachoman-au. Used in accordance with the terms of Wikimedia Commons’ GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.2 or any later version published by the Free Software Foundation; with no Invariant Sections, no Front-Cover Texts, and no Back-Cover Texts.
Hanging out with Fred the caretaker one day, we were standing near the bins when Fred noticed one of the bins was missing.
“Why would anyone want to steal a bin?” I asked him.
“It happens all the time and I bet I know where it is,” he said.
“Even if you do, how do you know it’s your bin they have?”
“Easy. The missing bin has a number eight on it. Also, I have written the address under the lids.”
As if to prove his point, he took me on a walk. He took me to a nearby building. He grabbed one of the bins and showed me where the number eight was painted on it and where he had written the address in black texta.
“See?” he said as he wheeled the bin back to his place.
“The bin area is the new place to hang out,” says my cosmopolitan friend, Karina. I am not exaggerating; she has lived in several countries while boring old me has spent most of my life in NSW. Karina’s ideas of fun include catching up with friends over coffee or at a nice restaurant, attending cultural events such as poetry readings and, of course, travel. Karina likes to joke that Fred and I dumpster dive; that is half true. While we don’t literally go through the trash, we do like to go through the recycling bins for interesting magazines. And Fred has to go through them anyway; it’s his job to ensure there is no general garbage in the recycling bins and vice versa.
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