So last week I fell in a trash dumpst3r Ė sorry mrs-roboto, I know you were hoping for an @lligator wrestling story. Iím the type of girl that when I fall in the dumpst3r people will say, ďyeah, that sounds like something you would do.Ē
It all began when I decided it was time to take out the trash, since my Hefty cinch sack was filled to the brim. I canít actually use the cinchers on the bag to easily close it since the bag doesnít fit into my blue, square M@rtha Stew@rt trash can unless I cut a slit down the top edge, thus rendering the cinchers useless, requiring me to tie a makeshift knot. Damn that Marth@ Stew@rt, evil genius that she is, I am not buying her expensive trash bags. Iím just not. All right, now that the important details are out of the way, let the dumpster diving debacle begin.
I grabbed my keys with the cute little alligator keychain (hey there mrs-roboto, there are @lligators in this story after all!) and trash bag in hand and headed to the previously mentioned dumpst3r. As I threw in the bag, the alligator got caught on the twisted knotted mess of my hefty bag and went right into the dumpster. Didnít see that coming? No? Well pay closer attention. Thud, clank, splash, right to the bottom, because of course the dumpster had been completely emptied the previous day and since it is Florida, of course it had rained the day before.
I peered over the side to see my keys lying in a pool of garbage water, while the alligator on my keychain seemed to be laughing at me, mocking me with his cold, beady plastic little eyes. Unsettling much.
I came up with an idea to get my only set of keys out of the dumpster. Although looking back, it doesnít seem like such a great idea, at the time it seemed perfect. Sadly, that is the case with many of my ideas.
I needed a chair, but I didnít have one since I sold all my furniture before moving. No problem, I just grabbed my extra neonmobile key I had taped inside the gas tank, backed up the d0dge to the edge of the dumpster so I could stand on the trunk, lean over the side with a coat hanger, hook my keys like a prize fish, and get on with my life. D0dge Ne0ns, is there anything they canít do? Oh yeah, drive or anything automotively related. As a step stool, though, the Neon is beyond compare. This isnít a Ne0n story though, itís a dumpster story.
I was having trouble catching the keys with the hanger, so I figured the hell with this and used my hand. As I grabbed hold of the slippery keys Ė Victory! Ė I lost my balance and basically did a handstand into the dumpster Ė a perfectly executed handstand I might add, finally, all those years of gymnastics paid off. Iím sure it was quite a sight to behold. I still thought the situation was completely manageable, using my impressive upper body strength (which would be impressive to a five year old child ), pushed myself back over the side of the dumpster onto the trunk of the trusty Neon, slipped and fell off the side. I have to say that kind of hurt. Fortunately my ass broke the fall. It was all good though because I had my slimy garbage water covered keys in my hand Ė woo hoo! It was then that I noticed I was covered in ants, hundreds of little ants. Ants people! Sweet merciful crap! I can handle being head over feet in a garbage dumpster, but I draw the line at ants. I handled the situation - I freaked out.
After showering for about an hour, and having the sensation of something crawling on me for the next 72 hours, I somehow survived.
I blame M@rtha Stew@rt for all of this.
2002-10-14 at 10:44 a.m.