The Recycling Police

28 January 2012

Back to work today, and thank God, as I’ve spent all week clearing out my late Mother-in-Law's house and I’m knackered.

My good mate, Mo the builder, is joining me on Monday and we will start the work to get it back to scratch.  As his daughter Ashley is going to be renting it he is as keen as I am to do a good job as quickly as possible....so a few very busy weeks ahead.

The clearance part, which I did on my own, threw up the same problem I talked about back in November (I think) about the "recycling police" at my local dump.

Emptying a house is a big deal and I knew I would have a vast amount of stuff, from rubble to old TVs. The guys at the dump, trained by the Gestapo and known to indulge in the odd strip search, were going to have a field day with me.

“Oi mate. Is that a pair of black socks? ‘Left Hand Black Socks’ - Bin 63, far end of the dump, ‘Right Hand Black Socks’ - Bin 2, at the other end. Oh hang on, is that a hole in that left sock? That goes in ‘Faulty Left Hand Black Socks’ - Bin 15, Level 4, Aisle 23. As the right hand sock doesn’t have a partner, thus being 'pair-less', it should now go in ‘Single Black Right Hand Socks Because Left Hand Sock is Faulty Due to Hole’ in Bin 137678, Sub-basement Level 128, Shelf 43, Aisle 56712. No sorry, Aisle 56713.” 

Anyhow, I needed a plan. So I filled the car up with wood only for my first trip but also brought along a set of old golf clubs and bag I had found in the attic. On my arrival I was bounced on by the usual flock of attendants who demanded to know exactly what I had on board. I indicated my pile of wood and they scrutinised it with sniffer dogs and metal detectors and as planned found nothing amiss.

Him: “'Assorted Wood' - Bin 25”, the guy said with a look of disappointment and a nod of his head.
Me: “Cheers mate”, I smiled. “Oh and do any of you guys play golf?”
Him: “I do”, he replied suspiciously.
Me: “Its just I have a set of clubs here which I don’t want and it would be a terrible waste to chuck them. You’re welcome to them if you want.”
Him: “Let’s have a look then”
Me: “There you go”, I said, lifting out the clubs from the front seat. “A bit old but a full set”
Him : “Hmmm. They're not bad. You giving them away?”
Me: “Sure. Why not? You guys have a thankless task here" (Yeah right, bastards). "Enjoy”
Him: “Cheers mate, you’re right. You wouldn’t believe the things people try to sneak into the wrong bins….yadda yadda yadda………. “ (5 mins of bad recycling stories).

I think he would have gone on for ever but he noticed his compatriots descending on a small van, the driver of which had turned pale and was dripping in sweat, and I suspect his claims of only having ‘non-recyclable stuff’ was about to be blown out of the water.

I dumped my wood and went back to the house and immediately loaded up with bin bags full of all kinds of things. I returned to the dump and the usual group approached but when my new chum saw me he waved his pals away and smiling (yes smiling!) asked me what I had. This was the moment of truth. I felt like I was trying to smuggle 20kgs of heroin into Thailand but I kept my cool and replied “Just a load of rubbish. Nothing of any use”.

He glanced in the back. Looked at me for a second and said “No problem. 'General Waste' - Bin 1”

Bin 1!!! I had made it to Bin 1!! I felt like I had won the lottery!! Everyone wants to get to Bin 1 'General Waste' but few make it and I was about to dump an entire car load in it. I parked beside the skip and got out of the car, unable to hide my smug look from the other poor folk running up and down the yard recycling away under watchful eyes. 

Then it happened. The equivalent of a dumping orgasm. My new best friend HELPED me empty the car. In the eyes of my fellow dumpers I was now at God status and I glanced around sopping up the silent adoration.

Over the next two days I made 14 runs to that dump and the only thing I ever recycled was a few bits of wood. I can die a happy man ………………….