When I was about six or seven, I had two goals in life: 1. become a missionary 2. have a meaningful, successful career as a garbage man. Sadly, I was never able to check off goal number two.
Why, Mr. Garbage Man, do you have to insult me so? Two Tuesdays ago--two normal trash pickups ago--you, for whatever reason, didn't empty my garbage can. It happens, I know, like when lame holidays are on Mondays. Isn't that why you work in the prestigious field of waste management? It's hard to beat the benefits of public jobs. This I know. That's why I didn't get too upset about my trash two Tuesdays ago... no matter that there wasn't a Monday holiday that week. Perhaps you only thought one took place. I'm a patient man, one missed trash day can be forgiven.
This Tuesday, like as in two days ago, I took my trash out to the street at 8 am, thinking that for sure it would be picked up this time. I mean, there wasn't a Monday holiday the day before, and even a garbage man can't be stupid enough to think two Monday holidays in a row had come and gone. Boy, was I giving too much credit to Mr. Smelly Pants. You forgot to pick up my trash again!
Look dude, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but my garbage frickin stinks! You've got to take it to the discarded-treasures-damned landfill! Remember that message I left you last week? The one where I got your emergency answering machine? Yeah, your machine said I'd hear back from you asap. I didn't.
I left another message for you last night. It wasn't so patient this time. In fact, I think I called you some rather colorful names. I can only be patient for so long.
The saddest part about all this is that I won't be able to refer responsible young men to your line of work. I mean, think of how much I loved you as a kid. There's no more love for you now, Mr. Garbage Man. Not in this house.
You'll find my garbage piled on the hood of your truck if it isn't picked up within the next day or two. Have a nice day. :)