How You Liking Me So Far?

So, today, in a further attempt to prove that I am the most spastic and strange person on this block, I accidentally stole my neighbor's trash can.

After I got back from running a few errands today (Pam and Diann, I mailed your books. And I mailed Ei her first sock so she could try it on.), I noticed that our trash can was lying on its side in front of our mailbox, which makes the mailman leave me veiled threats about stopping our mail if he doesn't have clear access to the mailbox. (I LOVE those kinds of notes.) So, I walked down the hill, picked up the trash can and rolled it back up the hill. On the way up, I noticed that our trash can was looking decidedly used and considering that it's only three months old, this seemed odd to me. In fact, wasn't our trash can actually a different color?

I figured that one of the neighbors had mistakenly taken ours and left theirs.

But first I e-mailed my husband asking if our trash can had a black lid as I remembered. He replied that it did and then noted that maybe this is why OTHER people on the street had their house numbers written on their trash cans.

Immediately, my mind began to race. I mean, this is NEW YORK, where crime runs RAMPANT, right? Haven't we all heard that? Maybe someone had PILFERED my trash can! It wasn't really all that cheap --I think we spent at least $70 on it. And how stupid of me not to put our address on it here in NEW YORK, where crime is horrible and nothing is sacred! I bet there is some kind of BLACK MARKET for trash cans!

Maybe this was even the work of ORGANIZED CRIME!

While picking up Ana from school, I saw one of my neighbors and told her of the missing trash can. We speculated on what could have happened. But then, after I got home, she called. It turns out that no one had stolen my trash can.

In fact, MY trash can had been left in front of her house.

I had stolen someone else's trash can.

Because I'm good that way.

I had to do a trash can swap, which meant a lot of walking up and down hills with various trash cans and now my neighbors, who only suspected it before, positively KNOW that I am certifiable AND, apparently, a trash can thief. Because all of those Texans, you know, they think they own everything. Think they're larger than life, helping themselves to trash cans and bringing dumb cow dogs everywhere they go...

(Well, they either think that or that I just felt the need to show our trash can the neighborhood. Some people walk dogs...)

At least no one could ever accuse me of ORGANIZED crime.

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I'm having some Internet troubles so my online presence has been spotty and may continue to be that way for a few days. Also, my SBC e-mail address was shut down without so much as a teeny warning so if you're trying to e-mail me, use the address barb [at] sothethingis [dot] com.

Barb Cooper
Mother. Writer. Collector of Trash Cans.

Sigh.

Comments

Ei said…
The Trash Can Mafia had me rolling.

I can hear it now, "No darling, I mean Barb, the cute Texan lady who takes her trash can for walks? Do you think she has heard the mob is in the trash can business already? She's a quick study!"

Love ya!
Do you know how intimidated I was when I realized that the people who recently moved in to our old house (2 doors down) managed to stencil the house number on their garbage cans within the first few days? As my husband commented, "We've been here over 10 years, and I still haven't gotten around to doing that."
Tenna Draper said…
Well, Barb, there you go!

The Keeper of the Neighborhood Trashcans!

Perhaps you guys need a neighborhood watch for this sort of thing?
farm suite said…
The lemonade stand ... the trash can trading ... could it all be a clever front for a vast nationwide (Texas to New Yawk = nationwide?)ring of money laundering?

How does one launder money? I mean, other than accidentally washing it in your pockets?

Barb, you crack me up!
DK said…
"At least no one could ever accuse me of ORGANIZED crime."

My favorite line in the whole post. Which cracked me up entirely anyway.
Becca said…
we got a new trashcan delivered from the collection service (a bear-proof tipper) and for about a week, every night when I got home it was sitting by our neighbor's fence, so I would trot it over to our side thinking the neighbor must be losing it. Turns out, it was my husband moving it, thinking it was theirs, since I apparently forgot to tell him we got a new one. The crazy lady who watches the street from her front window across the street must think we are the crazy ones!
MadMad said…
hahahaha! That's a good one! Speaking of good... I FINALLY got a chance to read more than two pages of your book before someone wanted something/needed something/was going to die if they didn't get something and LOVE it! It's so much fun to read "the backstory." And you are so darned funny!