My night as a hobo

So the other night I realized I threw some pretty important papers in my garbage can and took the bag to the dumpster. These papers were so important, in fact, that my lovely wife asked me to go out the dumpster (in the 20 degree weather) and see if I could retrieve the bag from the dumpster.

So I head out to the dumpster with my broom in one hand (to haul out the trash bag) and my son’s tiger flashlight (his roars when you turn it on, which is way cooler than mine). I poked around in the trash for a little bit and I saw what I thought was my bag. I got it out and I could see through it that it was NOT the one I was looking for. So I poked around some more, and there at the bottom, under a huge roll of thrown out carpet, was the bag I was looking for. And this was a pretty big roll of carpet, so I knew that I was going to have to make a trip INSIDE the dumpster to get the bag.

Now mind you I am a little more roly-poly than I used to be. I jumped up and threw my leg over the opening of the dumpster only to lose my balance and fall off it. Nothing hurt but my ever-growing pride (and backside). One more giant heave-ho and I found myself inside the dumpster. It wasn’t as bad as I’d anticipated until I realized that one of my neighbors had decided to empty the kitty box in the dumpster. As I stood there among the garbage bags and piles of cat crap, I started to move the carpet so I could get into my garbage bag and get out. I saw the bag and knew that it was the one I was looking for…Jackpot!

I got the bag and opened it up to find this was not…my…garbage…bag.

The smell from the bag made me sick. I almost puked right then and there.

Some nice female member of our apartment complex had also used this trash bin to deposit her used….um yeah.

My wife laughed her tail off when I told her.