I listen to the police scanner all day at work; several times a day dispatchers are sending out police to check on the well-being of so-and-so who hasn't been heard from for 25 days, or another so-and-so who hasn't been heard from for three months and could you please go check on her because her mail is piling up and becoming unsightly...
I don't understand how one can become so detached from their surroundings that three fucking MONTHS can go by without so much as anyone becoming concerned that the person is even still alive. I mean, sometimes there isn't any family, but there's always church. People at church have to care, don't they? You always at least have God's family.
Unless you're a despondent, soulless asshole, I guess.
I found myself helping my future roommate move the last bits and pieces of trash and furniture out of his old apartment the other night. I have known since I was in high school that trash goes into a dumpster, correct? So here I was, holding a box full of trash heading over to the dumpster in the same parking lot to throw it away. Mission accomplished. As I turn my back to grab the next load I hear an old man's voice cut through the chilly air in my direction.
"Hey!" His voice was accusatory and urgent. I turned around thinking someone had possibly broken a hip. "You can't throw away trash in that dumpster!"
I hate being tricked. Here I was, tired, cold, and sore, willing to drop whatever I was doing to help an old man out and I got tricked into almost caring about someone who was just trying to make my life a little more difficult. He didn't have a chance with me after that.
"Well, I just did." I said, making it very clear that I wasn't afraid of an old man yelling at me about something I had already done.
"Well stop! This dumpster is private property and doesn't belong to you!" He protested, as if I should really heed his generous warning.
"Listen dude, I've had a long fucking day and I don't need to listen to an old man yelling about a dumpster today," I yelled while walking away.
"I don't care about your day!" The man yelled back.
"And I don't care about the stupid fucking dumpster!"
He began to protest again. I cut him off. "Call somebody about it then and SHUT. UP. Or go find something to do."
"I think I will!" he retorted, getting out his cell phone and leaning on the dumpster.
My roommate comes over to me and asks me if I'm really arguing over the dumpster. I tell him yes; I've grown to hate most people. I inform him that he's calling 'someone' about it.
"We're almost done, and I'm moving out anyway," he stated.
"Exactly."
There was one cardboard roll left with some papers in it that I was told needed to be thrown away. Through the night, I could see the old man still leaning on that dumpster, excitedly explaining the situation to whoever was on the other end of the phone call. I started toward him with the cardboard roll, partly to prove a point and partly because I am vengeful when provoked. His 'explaining' face turned toward incredulous when he saw me veering toward him with what seemed to be more evil trash.
Now, a foot away from the man, I went to lift the lid of the receptacle to throw away this one item. The man threw himself, arms spread, in front of the dumpster as if to protect it like his dead wife from someone attempting to piss on her ashes.
"Seriously?" I said, flatly.
"YOU CAN'T USE IT! IT'S PRIVATE PROPERTY!"
I propped the cardboard roll up between the man's leg and the dumpster and walked away. He picked it up, yelling and screaming.
We were done. I got in my truck, the back of which was loaded down with more trash and furniture, and prepared to head over to the Volunteers of America to drop off some of the unneeded furniture. As I pull out, a conversion van with tinted windows flies around the corner and squeals into the parking lot toward the man at the dumpster, who is shaking his index finger toward me.
The van had Juggalo stickers on it. The man called a Juggalo to prevent me from throwing away trash.
And this is why three months pass without anyone wondering where you are.
