Thursday, October 09, 2003

Trash Can Sinatras
When we got married my husband was terrified of me taking his last name since I am the queen of complaints and various agencies throughout the city have no doubt banned me from their services.

I called my trash company to deliver new trash cans cause ours were disgusting and old. They immediately sent over 3 replacements, plus 3 that were the wrong size. I instructed my neighbors to put the old ones and the extra ones in front of our complex, for the trash people to pick up. They never did.

A week went by and I called them to remind them. Two days go by. I call, no pick up. By now I am livid and I call 2 times in one day - they assure me there's no way it wil be there when I get home from work. I come home, what do I see, trash cans. That's it. Now I'm f*ing pissed. I give them one more call and threaten them. This may be unwise considering watching the Sopranos where a trash company really isn't a trash company. I'm just saying.

Basically I told them if they didn't pick up their goddam trash cans I was going to throw them in the bushes across the street and they can come and get them at any time.

It's not like I just got outraged on the spot - it built up. To orchestrate the pick up - with the neighbors all up in my grill too, it was too much. Not to mention that being pregnant I really don't want to be moving around heavy items if I didn't have to. The first image of pregnancy ingrained in my brain was in Rocky, when Adrienne was pregnant and working in the pet store and moving that heavy ass bag of bird seed and then starting going in to early labor. It made me think - if I ever get pregnant, I'm not moving shit. Moral of the story. Dont mess with a pregnant woman who can barely lift anything.

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