All I can say is, I was SO close to being that headline in tonight’s nightly news. Thank God, I’m not.
In the middle of the night last night, when my brain full of buzzing wires was still at work, I figured out that 440 copies of my new book will be delivered here VERY SOON. Intervention was needed in the garage to make space available. I rounded up my strong sons and we loaded the back of the van for a trip to the dump….. an old, HUGE TV, a dead computer monitor with all the attachments, a broken sled from 1970 (made me sad… it was mine), a bike frame, another delapatated bike, a warped piece of plywood and some crutches minus the large rubber stoppers from the bottoms.
Once a month at the Phx. City sanitation transfer station (the dump) if you bring your water/sewer bill your trip is free instead of $20. I dug out a bill from the file cabinet and we were off. The area that surrounds our home is in the heat of roadway reconstruction. The dump is 2 miles straight north of our home, but I had to head south for 2.5 miles first.
I’ve only been to this transfer station once about two years ago. I forgot that the drive up window lane is on a gigantic scale. So I mistakenly drove up on the scale behind the guy in front of me. The dump lady hung out the window and flapped her arm at me to get off the scale. I s-l-o-w-l-y backed down the skinny ramp.
The guy in the white truck currently at the window was having issues…. not just crazy-woman-driver-behind-on-the-scale issues…. other issues. Five, maybe eight-minute-long issues. I finally backed out of my lane and went to the next lane. Then the aforementioned white truck drove through…. and so did four other trucks behind him…. while I waited for the gentleman in the gray truck who had issues.
I eventually arrived at the window, only to be told that the water/sewer ticket in my hand was three days passed the 60 day expiration limit…. and VOID. Bummer, dude. I drove seven miles back home, dug through my husband’s top dresser drawer filing system and found a current ticket to the dump. The boys and I grabbed snacks, drinks and got back in the minivan full of junk. Another seven mile drive to the city facility…. and when I pulled up to the same window with the same nice lady….. I COULDN’T FIND MY TICKET! I almost cried. We searched high and low. Nada. The angel-lady watched us search for about five minutes (maybe this was the issue with the other men??) and she finally said, “What’s your name, honey?”
“Linda Crosby.”
Then she made my frazzled day by saying, “I’m so proud of you for not yelling at your kids. You give kids something to hold and they lose it every time! I know you made the effort and went all the way home. You can go through this time without a water bill.” I thanked her 27 times. (I didn’t tell her that it was ME who left the bill at home.)
My son said to me, “I thought we were going to have to go home and come back again and I was going to stay home this time!” I think I would’ve stayed home too! God bless the lady at the dump.
My Sister's Jar 