The Further Adventures of Slacker Dude
There is exactly one rubbish barrel left that isn’t blown away or buried in a snowbank. Today is normally rubbish day (happy trash day, Harry), and it’s always entertaining to watch whether he brings the trash to the curb or not, and how many bags of rubbish he’s been hoarding in his apartment (or in the hall, which is why a stench develops sometimes) he brings down then.
I’m sure it’s still trash day, but we are expecting 7 to 10 inches of snow, already underway by about an inch. Did he skip this week? No. That would have been logical. Who knows when or if the trash pickup will make it here in the snow, and in the meantime, especially since he set it out on the actual street rather than in the driveway as far as I can tell, the rubbish is in danger of being plowed away or buried. Doh!
At least he hasn’t flooded the apartment again. Yet.
Deb commented yesterday that she could barely restrain herself from laughing when I brought him into our apartment to see where the water had leaked. She’s right, but I guess I expected it and ignored it. He had the look of someone either stoned completely off his ass, or someone naturally so unfocused and vacuous that you might as well be talking to a stump. Which explains why I felt like he barely understood what was happening, let alone the gravity of it.
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