I am reminded EVERY SINGLE DAY NOW that I am a throwback to another era.
I just got back from the dump, I mean, THE TRANSFER STATION, because all they do is scoop all the crap everyone hauls up there into Conex shipping boxes and load it onto trucks that haul it to the real dump over a hundred miles away.
It’s quite the racket too, which I have ranted about here on this blog several times.
I call ’em the Trash Nazis.
Motherfuckers got rules for everything and eager enforcers all over the damn place.
So I went up there, actually got in the damn place without having to wait for traffic for a half hour and drove past the line to dump stuff to get into their recycling barn. Here the rules are strictly enforced and God help ya if you don’t do everything EXACTLY as they wish.
I got chastised for not putting a bag of styrofoam in the right place but other than that managed to escape rather unscathed.
Then the fun starts.
You have to drive all the way around the transfer station building and head back out to the road, then start praying that someone who is currently in line to get in will let you make a damn U Turn in the middle of the road so you can get back in line to actually get into the transfer station.
It can be and usually is, a Clusterfuck of EPIC proportions.
I got lucky today because some kid in a Chevy truck close to the vintage of mine, broke down and had the hood up, allowing me to whip around and get back in line.
Sucks to be you kid and in another life I would have tried to help you out but shit don’t work that way with the Trash Nazis.
I get up to the scales and ask the chick what it’s going to cost me to leave that canopy there, fully expecting to be told that ain’t happening.
She tells me however much it weighs is how much it’s going to cost, at 7 cents a pound.
OK, I can deal with that,
My original plan was to unload the crap out of the back and then ask one of the guys inside to grab a fork lift, get in behind the truck, stick the forks under the canopy and get the weight off enough so I could just drive out from under it.
Oh hell no, that makes too much sense.
The guy remembered me when he saw the orange WARNING, ORNERY BASTARD ON BOARD sticker on the tailgate because I had given him one at some point last year and he told me he still had it.
Unfortunately, he tells me that it’s going to cost me EIGHTY DOLLARS if they have to use any of their equipment to help me unload anything.
Fuck That I says.
Back in the day, if anyone besides my apparently ancient old ass, I or anyone else, would have volunteered that little help and thought nothing of it. It’s kinda what we did back then.
Not so anymore Grasshopper.
So of course they have people back in to unload shit and they pack them in at door ding range. Now I have to try to get this heavy assed fiberglass canopy off by myself, without having it come off the side and hit some other asshole’s rig. I had to use a forklift with fork extensions just to get it on there in the first place because it was so heavy.
I undid all the clamps, kind of hunched over with my hands on my knees for support and then tried standing up a little as to take enough weight off and be able to kind of rock backwards a bit, sliding the heavy bastard straight back two inches.
Repeat as necessary and make adjustments to keep it on the damn rails.
I got it back far enough that I could skinny underneath the front glass and get between the cab and the canopy so I could give it a shove.
I also got damn lucky that the rigs on both sides of me pulled out while I was crawling around so I yelled at the guy directing traffic and told him not to park anyone next to me for a few seconds because I knew damn good and well that it was going to wind up coming off the side instead of straight back, which is exactly what happened.
It scuffed the paint in a couple places but I don’t give a shit about that, it’s a truck, ya know?
Now that it’s on the ground, you fuckers can deal with it, thank you very much.
I drove out, went to the scales and was pleasantly surprised to hear that with all of it, they only wanted $23.
It usually costs me $15 at a bare minimum up there no matter what I have so I am going to call that a win.
Now I am going to go find the Ibuprofen, take some of that and then head right back out for round two.
I’m gonna be hating life later tonight, I can already feel it.