11 Days in a Dumpster - Prelude

The story begins.......

I love garbage goodies!  Being a trash troll, I pull up to a curb, grab something cool, and use it - the ultimate in recycling.  Rarely, have I heard someone yell, “Hey, don’t put that to good use, I was trying to throw it away!”  Imagine a yard sale, without those pesky price tags. 

Now, my city has a University.  We’ll call it “City University” (and never refer to it again).  Whenever a semester ends, many of the college kiddies move out and dump their entire dorm rooms curbside.  Much of my well-furnished home comes from what their mommies and daddies replace with magical, mystical credit cards.  Thanks, folks!  It’s exhilarating to garner gadgets from the undereducated youth of America. 

Dumpster diving is a completely different animal.  These metal monsters tend to be on private property, so now you’re dealing with business owners.  They can be “grumpy” when someone puts their dented, discarded, expired products to good use.  The fact that we live in a sue-happy culture doesn’t help.

So…..my trash tribulation begins on the day we’ll pretend I was training for the Olympics.  Part of my workout consisted of reaching into a dumpster for “no-priced” items, focusing on my abs.    It was dark outside, but with enough streetlight to peer inside.  This particular vessel was nearly empty, but brimming with fate.  I heard someone coming back to throw in another load, so I hopped inside and became perfectly still.  He whipped in a black sack and, with a deafening SCREEEEEEECH slid the metal door shut.  My plan was to wait for him to leave the premises before executing my daring escape.

He walked to his car, started it and drove away.  With one swift jerk, I realized the door was locked.  Yelling and pounding on the steel walls became pointless after about fifteen minutes.  I finally convinced myself that I would have to wait until the cock crows to be discovered.  Myself agreed with me, regarding the embarrassing consequence, and I settled in for the night.

I could smell food, amongst the sparse retail goodies, so I decided to investigate.  I discovered an entirely unopened cheesecake with a severely dented box.  It was warm, but didn’t stink.  In retrospect, it didn’t stink, because I was surrounded by stink.  I love cheesecake!  I concluded that I had to eat as much as I could, before it went “bad”. 

Afterward, I fluffed my grocery bag pillow stuffed with fast food leavings, closed my eyes and retired at the age of thirty-seven (I know…..I sound much younger.)  I woke up, around what I assumed was 3:39 am, in intense pain!  Fluorescent light penetrated the dumpster cracks.  I couldn’t feel my arms, legs or long, flowing tail.  I immediately went back to sleep, falling into a deathly spell.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

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