Saturday, October 18, 2008

Dump Run

This morning I went to the Transfer/Recycling center to get rid of my couch. I don't go there often and I had no sticker on my truck, which made me little nervous. I parked my pick up truck and went into the office. Two intimidating old timers where there, they had this, "Can I help you" thing going on. And I, not used to talking to strangers, asked in an unusually(almost yelling) loud voice "I have no sticker on my truck can I get rid of my couch here?" They gave each other , the all to familiar "what an idiot" look. The head guy made me go get my license plate number. I fumbled with the door an went back outside. I was getting pissed off. "Were they laughing at me?" "They're playing games with me." I could feel the anger inside me building. I'm not some joke. They were old, but there were two of them. If there was going to be trouble I needed to be ready. I went back in with my plate number ready to attack. The leader of the two made a sudden move, which made me jump. I was reaching for a pot of hot coffee to smash him in the face with, when he got up and handed me my sticker, and directed me where to go. Humiliated, I got back into my truck. After backing up to the wrong stall, I found the right spot and dumped my couch. They watched me from the window of their office. I could see them laughing.

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