The Mission of the Night Vulture

The Just 10 Team just got back from a trip to the central transfer center, which is a fancy name for a dump.  As we pulled in the driveway, our #1 son was creating a spoof of a Justin Bieber song, for the sole purpose of irritating his sister.  His spoof was so funny, it had the opposite effect, at least initially.  When he sings it repeatedly I guarantee you she will be annoyed.

None of us enjoy our journeys to the dump but it's necessary since we lost garbage service about a year ago.  As to be expected, when trying to live on one part-time income, we got behind in our bills.  Power, water and gas people will work with you.  The local garbage carrier will not.  One day our garbage sat alone, unwanted on the curb.  The collection calls began.  You would think that when you explained the situation and told the caller that full payment isn't possible, it may have some effect.  It did not.  They were rabid about wanting the full $98 we owed. 

An especially aggressive caller got me on the line one day.  We were getting multiple calls a day, every day.  I guess they hoped we were lying or that somehow the money fairy made a visit over night.  They were sure determined to get that $98 dollars.  Normally, I'd learned to avoid these calls.  There is little point when you can't pay and they aren't willing to work with what you can afford.  Alas, somehow I picked up the phone one day and an angry woman was on the end of the line.  Her first question was, "Do you know you haven't paid your trash bill?  This was a hard fact to miss especially, when I knew the garbage was piling up next to the garage, sad, smelly and unwanted.

I reacted with a small chuckle.  This angered her even more.  She said, So you  think this is funny?"  Ok, now that made me mad.  I said, "I so, wish I had the money to pay you and avoid these nasty calls."  She then proceeded to demand payment of the $98.  They'd already stopped service.  Our credit rating was destroyed long ago.  There really wasn't anything she could do unless it was sending out Guido to fit me for a pair of concrete overshoes.

There had been an article in our local newspaper that mentioned how many millions the local waste hauler had spent on brand new trucks and new bins for every customer.    I laughed at the irony of how much importance this woman gave our $98.  So, I told her what I found amusing.  She didn't share my sense of humor and snarled, " That doesn't have anything to do with the money you owe us!"    Oh, if only wishing for money were the answer.  I would have so loved to pay them and never listen to her again. 

Instead, I told her, that the money that they'd spent had everything to do with the $98 she was demanding.  I told her that the other utilities seemed to understand the financial challenges of some of it's customers and did what they could to work with us.  I told her that if their company hadn't spent so much money, they might be able to work with people like us and gain the $98 over time.  She was as persistent as an old dog with a bone.  She growled.  I hung up.  We haven't spoken since.  They still haven't received $98.

We have solved our trash problem.  We can take our recyclables to the transfer center. The center takes a greater variety than the curbside program, so we can recycle more.  I pile our yard waste behind the shed.  I compost as many kitchen scraps as I can and we have a resident trash hero who under the cloak of darkness shares our trash with the trash bins behind local businesses who always seem to have room for a little more.

Necessity makes this necessary and our resident trash hero seems to actually enjoy the cloak and dagger aspect of his night missions.  I call him "The Night Vulture." 

Humor is a way to cope and not such a bad way either.  I'd prefer to laugh about something other than the situations we find ourselves in when living below the federal poverty level but it seems I don't have a choice, at least, not right now.  Hearing #1 son, make up a silly song after a messy trip to a smelly dump, made us all laugh.  I prefer laughing to crying any day.  Now if "wishing could only allow beggars to ride",  I could laugh all the way to the bank.