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December 24, 2004

Rubbish for Christmas

I was being held up. A large rubbish truck had stopped in front of me. Not loading empty rubbish bags into the back, more like opening Christmas presents left out for them by their ever so grateful customers. Just as I was debating to myself the perks and perils of being a garbage man at Christmas, a thought flashed into my head. It was one of those ‘have I locked the door’ or ‘have I closed all the windows’ moments that suddenly pop into your head for absolutely no reason. Well, I suppose this thought was a little more down the present opening rubbish collectors that were holding me up than just a bizarre random train of thought. And this was a little more important than glowing light bulbs or unfastened doors.

I stopped the car and went straight to the boot. The black rubbish bag was there. It was the contents of the black rubbish bag that was more concerning. A quick feel, suspicions confirmed. A loose banana skin, an empty carton of milk and some half dried, tomato covered, pieces of pasta. The rubbish men would be getting some Christmas gifts, albeit unintentionally. Instead of crushing the empty box of PG tips tea, they would be crushing three mini bottles of wine, a bottle of Scotland’s finest malt whiskey, and a selection bath oils. My sense of humour, although described as dark, surely would not extend to wrapping up banana skins and attaching labels to the dearest. That would be absurd and totally inappropriate, especially at Christmas. We all know banana skins are notoriously difficult to wrap up. So, admitting defeat, I turned the car around and returned to swap the black bags over. Next time maybe using a black rubbish bag for your sack of presents is not such a good idea.

The good willed Christmas present giving community that had delayed and annoyed me, had in turn, helped me. The rubbish men had not come, and the presents remained gleefully intact, with the addition of some pasta shells from flat 33 which had superficially planted themselves on the case of wine.

I pulled up to the lights, having remembered at the last minute to return my three Blockbuster rented DVD ‘s to their rightful owner. Then another thought flashed through my mind. Had I remembered to put the rightful DVD’s in their rightful boxes? The night before I had been tidying up, putting DVD’s in any boxes I could find, to save time, and sanity. Of course I would make sure the right boxes would be found the next morning. Well that was if I was to get up at the right time, which of course I missed. The next thought was slightly more provoking. Christmas day, a family sitting around a lit fire place. An eagerly awaiting youth demanding “Mummy, can we put Shrek on now please?”. The thoughts turned to the next household, boxing day, a group of middle aged something blokes putting on a film to get them going. “Mummy, why is that man with a mask eating someones brain?”. The credits started, John sits back with his mates, they all look at him, it’s as if they are in a land far, far away. Maybe the kid and his family will like Hannibal, you never know.







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