Tuesday, January 25, 2011

In Which Sheila Is Menaced By The Recycling Man

This is my new recycling man. I didn't have the nerve to snap a photo of him glaring down the driveway at me, so I drew him instead, from the safety of my house. Trust me, this drawing makes him look rather benevolent. Paper tigerish. Merely grouchy. Mildly annoyed.
But he wasn't.

No, no, no. He wasn't.

Why was he glaring at me, you ask?

Well, from what I can gather, I didn't sort my recycling carefully enough.

That's right. I did not sort my debris to his liking.

Usually I am meticulous about sorting the recycling, but what with the frivolity of Christmas and Max's birthday I had delegated some of the recycling tasks to those who shall remain nameless...cough cough...MAXFDPGDOMINIC...cough cough...but let's just say that those nameless culprits aren't as, um, ZEALOUS about sorting as I am. There was some - GASP - paper in the plastic section. And the plastics were carelessly bundled together in a big mess.

So, because we happened to be in the family room, doing schoolwork when Recycling Man came by with his recycling truck, and because that family room happens to overlook the road where the recycling truck was situated, we saw Recycling Man stomp around the blue box, glare at the blue box, pick up the blue box and shake it towards our house, then stomp around a bit more and glare down the entire length of the driveway (whereupon we all fell instantly to our knees in case he saw us gaping out the window), and, finally, slap a giant fluorescent orange sticker on our blue box, giving us one last venomous gaze before he barrelled away in his truck.

We picked ourselves up. We giggled a bit, mostly from shock. I asked Max to go out and see what the sticker said, but he refused, until Recycling Man had left the vicinity. And mostly we all cowered in the family room, slightly shocked by that glare.

That glare.

That terrible awful glare.

Is this what our city means by "implementing new recycling policies, more in line with current trends in community management"?

Recycling Man Goes Rogue?

You can bet I'm going to be sorting my recycling more carefully this week.


Rebecca said...

Oooo... you got the sticker-as-wrist-slap. Naughty Sheila.

Must do better.

(Or PsychoRecyclingMan just MAY go rogue. And what then? Shudder.)

Suji said...

Oooh, what did the sticker say?!

sheila said...

Rebecca pretty much summed it up, Suji:I am a Bad Recycler. I did an unacceptable job of my sorting, and Recycling Man didn't like it. Luckily the sticker was hugely relaxed about it, unlike Mr Recycling Man. I get the impression that he isn't hugely relaxed about ANYTHING, lol. His glare is a permanent fixture on his face. If anything, my sketch improved his Patented Nasty Glare.

Samantha said...

All of our recycling goes into one big bin, and our recycling man never even leaves his truck.

When I walk around the neighbourhood on recycling day, I often come across bins overflowing with non-recyclables. i glare at the house and shake my head, but I don't have any stickers that say "BAD RECYCLER" on it. Maybe I should get me some...

Samantha (who needs to get a hobby that doesn't involve other peoples recycling...)

LOVE the picture by the way

sheila said...

GASP! You'd never! Slap a sticker on my recycling bins? I am SHOCKED, Samantha, SHOCKED.

That's it...I'm sending Recycling Man after you next time he comes. I'm going to tell him that you MADE me sort my stuff that way. You just wait...and cower. lol

samantha said...

Not on your bins, dear Sheila! On the bins of the naughties in my neighbourhood. There is no way that your bin could ever even compete with these people for bad recycling practices.

I'm certain your Recycling Man would sob uncontrollably if he were to come across these bins.

sheila said...

OMG, he'd whip them into shape in seconds flat, I'm sure. He's terrifying. He even LOOKS terrifying.

How can you tell I'm afraid of him? lol

Rebecca said...

And he knows where you live...

Samantha said...

Send him up! They need a good whippin'! Maybe run out and tell him (next time he comes by) that he's needed elsewhere.

Don't be afraid of him, Sheila. Next recycling day, go out and do a little dancing as he's going by your house. It will bring a smile to his face and I'm sure he will remove your sticker.

Samantha (who is all about the dance)