OLD CARD

I am my own garbage person.  There is trash pick up out here but since I have lived in the country, I have  always been my own trash disposer.  For $7 a week I could have it picked up.

But if I store it in my shed in contractor bags--I call them body bags for they are so large--I can go to the dump station once a month or so for $5.00. So that is what I have done for 15 years.  The bags are so thick that there is neither smell nor varmints.

Yes it is getting harder to lift these 50 pound bags into a wheel barrow, then into the back of my little pick up but so far I am making it. Might be breathing a bit heavier these days but we get'er done.

The dump station is about 15 miles away but I make the trip to town count for more than one thing.

I always turn in my recyclables first, then go to the scales to weigh my vehicle. While I was waiting for the hand signal from the office to indicate they had my weight, I noticed a small truck that was oddly pulled sideways in the dump area and an older fellow was unloading it. 

Usually we back up to the drop off and there is a semi trailer pulled below for us to throw our trash into.  The only person around was the elderly fellow who was just finishing putting his trash at the edge of the drop off.  I noticed he moved as if he were in pain. Either back or hips were killing him. I know that walk from when my sciatica flairs up.

Phooey I thought. I usually get help unloading my trash from the workers but it looked like I was on my own today. No one in sight and that poor old fellow looked like he needed my help.

When I started to back up to the edge, a nice young man appeared out of nowhere and  gave me hand signals to get me close but not too close to the edge.  I was grateful for the guidance and wondered why the old fellow's vehicle was so catawampus. Did no one guided him in??

The old gentleman was getting into his vehicle as I got out of mine.  Again that darling young man leaped to my rescue.  He explained that the trucks had not arrived yet and he quickly emptied my little truck putting my bags on the edge.  The young man handled the bags like loaves of bread.  Ah, the little old lady card worked again.

I thanked him mightily and drove to the ramp to wait for the older gentleman to clear the scales and pay his due.  I hurt seeing him struggle down the stairs to the office and then struggle even more to climb back up. He was in pain.

Then I wondered, why hadn't he been helped like I had been? Not complaining mind you but I sure felt badly for that elderly man.  Does the "old card" only work for women?