The world is watching us all these days, it seems. Literally watching. This matters not to a fine upstanding young man like myself who obeys all ten commandments every day and would follow ten more if somebody was to command them. In fact, I wish somebody would.
But even a saint can get tripped up now and then, I suppose. And so it was with me when a big red steel dumpster was delivered to the business next door to our house. Each day, employees of the store tossed in refuse of every description until after week or so, the thing was filled to overflowing.
Around this time, we had bought a new firebowl for the backyard. It came in a massive cardboard box and was encased in brittle white foam. When it was unpackaged and assembled, the firebowl stood there on the patio looking great but the big white slab of foam leaned forlornly against the house. How the heck was I going to get rid of that thing?
As it turns out, the Universe had delivered the answer right on time. The steel garbage bin next door. So one recent late night, when everyone was in bed and there seemed to be no lights on in any of the neighbours’ houses, I grabbed the foam slab and snuck over to the next-door business. I tossed it high in the air and it landed on the very top of the already-too-full bin. It stuck out, kind of like the cherry on a sundae.
I snuck back inside my home without being detected. But every day from then on, until the bin was removed and unloaded, I worried about the slab of foam and felt very guilty about adding it to my neighbour’s trash. I had even thought of returning to the bin and fetching it back again some night but worried I would be seen and reported for stealing from the dumpster. I breathed a little easier when it was finally taken away.
Yesterday, it was brought back empty to the business, to be once again filled up.
Today, I happened to be over at the business, talking to the owner, and I remarked on the sign he had posted on his door announcing that his establishment was being monitored 24 hours a day by video surveillance.
“In fact, we even have a camera set up outside,” he said, pointing to a little wandering eye situated near the roof. It happened to be pointing directly at the big red steel garbage bin.
If there ever was a time for a joke, this was it.
“Oh, I am glad to see that,” I quipped. “I was thinking of going dumpster diving.”
The owner laughed. A little too long and a little too hard. And way too knowingly, it seemed to me. Like someone would who spends part of his days going over video surveillance footage.
I am spending today, going through the Commandments, trying to figure out which one covers great big slabs of hard white foam. So far, I haven’t seen anything that fits.
But chalk it up to my bad luck that the very first time in my 67 years that I ever did anything wrong, my evil deed would be captured on film.
Of course it would be. So, it’s back to the straight and narrow for me. You can bet your big red dumpster on it.
©2018 Jim Hagarty
