Christmas Eve at the Dump

During my lunch hour I went to the mall to watch the commerce happening. I love monitoring the interface between supplier and consumer. I was pleased to note that I could not find a parking space within reasonable walking distance. I parked in a handicapped spot and limped into the mall concourse. One of the ways I entertain myself is to pretend I'm interested in the Bose equipment. I ask a lot of dumb questions, let the guy demo the most expensive rig, then, pulling out my checkbook, I ask the price. When he tells me that its $1100 I just shake my head and walk away, muttering. "You gotta be shitting me." (Some people think its mean to waste a saleperson's time, but for some reason it helps me relax.)
Anyway, I love seeing people laden with bags of stuff. I get a warm feeling because I know that eventually, all this crap ends up at the dump. I went over to the Christmas Tree Shops, which is an export outlet for China. There were 15 register lanes open, with long lines in each lane. More landfill futures.
So I was in a pretty good mood when I got back to the cobb shack that we use as an office at the dump. I dug out a couple of seasonal CD's that someone had trashed. I put the Tony Bennett one on. He was singing, "Here Comes Santa Claus." when Lardass came in, as usual, reeking with the stink of effluviam.
His usually pleasant demeaner turned dour. "Shut that fucking crap off, willya?" he groaned.
"Well, Merry Chistmas to you too, Mr Cheerful!" I turned the sound down to barely audible.
"Aw, Humbug on you, prickface."
"Nice talk. For Chrissake, It's Christmas Eve. What is your problem? You have a job. You have your, um, health. Well, sort of. And..."
"You wanna know why I'm pissed?" he interrupted.
"Yeah."
"I was thinking of all the people who re-gift."

We dumpsterguys hate re-gifting. We think it is a barbaric practice employed by the most cynical citizens among us. It keeps material that should be chucked into the shitcan in circulation. It's like robbing us of stuff that should come to us. I wish I could say it is an un-american practice, but on the contrary, only in america can you boast about being so tacky as to give shit that you wouldn't want to people on your "gift" list.

I was pondering the evil in the world when Bill came limping in wearing his holiday jodhpurs.
"Hey!" I Yelled, "I hope you didn't park in the handicapped space?"
"Naw. This dampness gets to my knee." he tapped his left knee with his leather riding crop. "I parked back near the used condom dumpster. Someone ought to empty that thing."