Landlord dumpster-diving: a retrospective

I threw out a metal computer stand. The next day it appeared in the laundry room on the “shelf”.

I just noticed it in the “Master ‘shelf’ improviser” picture. It’s right beside the laundry log.

Please forgive my initial oversight, there is much to assimilate around here.

Dumpster diver, recycler, landlord

I moved into the building and received a very lengthy and very detailed information session on how to properly throw out garbage and recycle.  Apparently, I should’ve taken notes.

Within the first week I was chastised for improper garbage disposal.  My landlord had dug into the garbage dumpster and ripped open the bags I had thrown out. In hindsight, I’m surprised I wasn’t told in a note or a sign with smileys and highlighter. From what I gleaned from the conversation, he did an extremely thorough assessment of all of my refuse.  In a (forced) nonchalant chat in the hallway, my landlord told me about my bad deed but was assured it was ok (while he smirked and his eyes darted around); simultaneously, the words “this time” appeared in a thought bubble hovering above his head.

Well, lesson learned there!  I have become much more aware of my garbage disposal protocol. Slowly, over the years, thoughts have dissipated of my landlord dancing around donning used tampon applicators on his fingertips and old pork skin sewn together into a skirt. Please recycle!