"Why Does the Trash Man Hate Me?" Topic

Today is trash day in my neighborhood. The trash men are outside my window collecting trash as I type. I think they hate me. They don't tell it to my face or leave nasty notes. But they hate me. I know it. I never say anything bad about them. But they hate me. They hate my trash can. It's a simple trash can--a green Rubbermaid model. They never abuse the neighbors' cans. Just our can. Stop kicking my can!

Well, they are gone. Time to recover the remnants of my poor can, repair its new insults, and nurse it back to health. Only to be abused again on Friday. I think there is a life lesson in there somewhere.

Every Trash man I have ever seen is unhappy…
To which I say:
"Get another job! Nobody MADE you become a trash man!"

I had to literally BRIBE the trash men to take away the trash left behind by the previous owner of our house (those owners just dumped half their house on the curb).
Not only that, but I had to help them load it into the truck…. and they were STILL nasty (and it wasn't MY trash and they KNEW it).

stop me before I keep going…

Our trash men are pretty good, actually. They have three different trucks that come around on Friday. One picks up organic debris (branches, leaves, clippings), the other large household trash (even broken appliances and furniture), and the last is a big "claw" truck that lifts their provided trash can and dumps it out in the back. When the city wanted to limit what they picked up in terms of the larger items, the trash men were among those complaining about the restrictions! Good people doing a nasty job. I'll salute 'em.

In NYC, garbagemen make $50-60K and get a pension in 20 years. Many can make up to $80-90K. I don't feel sorry for them.

I have no complaints about our trash service. It must really just be you and your Rubbermaid can that they hate.

Yeah, we've heard about you all the way up in Michigan. The trash grapevine is very efficient. Something about lewd and lacivious content?

The only complaint I have about our bin people is what one bin lady wears. High visibility vest, dark tights and safety boots with nothing else visible does not seem to fit the job.

Thinking about it a few years ago she would have been the wrong gender for the job.

x42

It's the recycle guys in my neighborhood. We are supposed to crush cans, have all paper & cardboard contained in a paper container (paper grocery bag) and all inside a plastic tub that holds about ten gallons.
If you stack it too high and stuff falls out it apparently becomes non-recyclable garbage because it gets left behind on the curb. Once they dump the stuff the tub is just tossed back in the general area of where it started. When you come home in the evening it looks like someone drove down the street tossing the tubs out of the back of a truck like newspapers – they're everywhere – yards, driveways, middle of the street, etc. One of my neighbors is on his third container because the previous two cracked and were unusable from being tossed onto the pavement. (I don't think the tubs are recyclable either) These guys must be former or in training to be airline baggage handlers.

Ours are great. They pick up trash, commingled recycling, and a set number of pickups of large items per year. They're punctual and friendly. They never leave a mess. I suspect they're well paid. I always wave when I see one of their trucks around town.

Allen

It helps if you leave them Beer……

I never saw the binmen for the fortnight I spent in Florida, but the 4 times they emptied the bins, it was a nice little obstacle course dodging them in the road when we got back to the place we were staying in. Not sure if it was the wind, the binmen kicking them around or the enormous ducks/geese/evil death birds that did it.

I remember the garbagemen from my youth in the 60s, big jolly fellows who we used to treat with watermellon and cold water during the summer when we were home from school. As a treat, they'd occasionally allow us to pull the lever which would clamp on to the garbage in the hopper and crunch it up into the back of their truck.

We have a truck with a driver. A big clamp picks up the can and dumps it in the truck. The driver actually checked to see if I was alright when I stumbled dragging my can up one day. Another guy picks up organics and old stuff with a big arm. Very cool. Our trash guys are OK.

"Only to be abused again on Friday."

You get two pickups a week?

I hate you now too.

["Only to be abused again on Friday."

You get two pickups a week?

I hate you now too.]

When I moved into my first house in Singapore, I asked the letting agent what day the garbage was collected. She looked at me a bit funny and asked what I meant.

The garbage is collected every day here, including Sundays. The advantage of a large (and well off) population in a small space. And considering the heat here, it's a really good way to keep life pleasant. Week-old trash would be REALLY high.

Trash pick-up ? Hey, life out here in the sticks means
*you* take your trash, pre-sorted, to the local
collection point and deposit it in the appropriate bin.

Pick-up ? Oh, yes, those guys who charge you USD 100.00
month to come by in their LARGE, road-destroying truck
(it's a gravel road) with the unmuffled engine running at
98db (by meter).

There are 8 homes on our mile stretch of road, only
1 of which uses the trash pick-up disservice. I've
offered to take my next door neighbors' (about 150 yards
away) trash to the collection point, but no taker…

It's not as bad as this guy's…

YouTube link

Ok, maybe I have it good. :-)

My garbage guy is fine, never had a problem.

The recyclables guy, is another story. After he finishes putting all the items in the various bins of his truck, he flings my bin in the general direction of my residence. Which means it ends up in the neighbors yard, almost hitting my truck a couple times, in the middle of the sidewalk, etc. The guy just looks like he'd just as soon punch you in the face as talk to you.

"Why Does the Trash Man Hate Me?"

Oh don't worry its not just them…

There was the bin man who died after 50 years on the same round. Everyone was sad to see him go, so he got the full works. His coffin was taken on the back of the lorry to the crematorium, where he was burnt with full 'bin man' honours, and his collegues scattered his ashes up the path, pausing only to abuse the vicar when he complained. It's what he would have wanted.

Love our guys – they show up mostly on Fridays – they're supposed to be here on Thursdays and yell at each other about something or other.

When we did some spring cleaning and got rid of a chair or two, I left a bottle of J.W. red label for them [it's about 75 zl = 20 USD] because chairs or heavier items are to be hauled off by you and they did it, of couse after saying 'You know, we're not supposed to but just this one time – oh, and thanks for the 'present' '. I love Poland!