"I'm Fixing your cache, he grinned, showing his red gums.
Since he started reading the "Degunking Windows" book, Lardass has been fooling around with my PC. He claims he has deleted half a dozen unused programs, thousands of temp files, cookies, and images of websites that Windows doesn’t know how to get rid of. He claims that just putting files into the trash icon does not actually get rid of them. “It’s sort of like moving unwanted items from your living room to your garage,” he notes. “You don’t gain any space.”
But my attention was already drifting to the closed circuit security screens that monitored the various place in the dump. No sign of dump vultures today. The new policy was working, I smiled to myself.
We call them “dump vultures”, because they hang around the take-and-leave-areas like birds of prey, ready to pounce on anyone who is dropping off good stuff. They load the treasures into their cars or trucks, probably to re-sell them at yard sales or on e-bay. We are an affluent town and the quality and condition of our citizenry's refuse is better than some of the new stuff that you can buy at Walmart.
Normal citizens have bitterly complained that these “scavengers” were scooping-up all the best treasures. So I decided to institute (and enforce) new policies about who gets in, and how long they can hang around. We experimented, using volunteer staff to enforce stickers inspection and hanging-around time. We recruited students, bored housewives, disbarred lawyers, recently released inmates, and retired people to work the take and leave areas. The Volunteer Corps did not work out as hoped. Residents started complaining again because now the volunteers were grabbing all the best stuff, taking bribes and letting their friends and relatives hang around for hours. Corruption is the handmaiden of power. The dump is no exception.
I fired all the volunteers, and revoked their RDF stickers. I got Lardass to tweak a few of the robots in the Artificial Assistant recycle area. Lardass may be a complete slob, but he has a Mensa card in his wallet. He restored several robots to working condition. They were programmed to scan the faces of all citizens entering an area and keep track of when they arrived and when they left. Anyone who overstayed the time limit got chastised and warned by the robots who were equipped with paintball guns. I also placed a large and visible Tip Jar in each recycle spot with a sign that read "Appreciate your RDF employee!" This was genius on my part.
Ever since we opened the organ transplant take-and-leave area, we started getting a lot more foreign traffic. By “foreign” I mean anyone who is not a resident of the town. The reusable Kidney area is particularly popular, but hearts and livers are also in demand by sub-prime medical facilities, and amputated limbs seem to be prized by local would-be Dr. Frankensteins.
75% of the dump is now devoted to some sort of recycling activity. Thanks to prescient leadership and a firm control of the budget by yours truly, the vision of a dump as a transition station rather than a landfill is becoming realized. We are a model for other DFM’s to emulate. Oh, I try to be modest, but it is hard when the dump you created and staffed is world famous. Not surprisingly, we often get visitors from far-flung places like Japan, Albania, New Jersey. They come dressed like tourists, taking pictures and interviewing the staff for insights. I notice many of our mid-east visitors spending a lot of time hanging around the plutonium recycle area. Often I have to go out with my AK-47 and caution the visitors that the take and leave material is for residents only.
LA was extolling the virtues of a downsized hard drive when the limos arrived. My intercom crackled, and the barely understandable voice of the new intern said, “Boss, I am having some limos at the gate with no stickers. They are saying that they are having an appointment…”
Rajeed, our new intern, was manning the entrance gate, checking stickers. When he beeped me on the intercom, he was following the new policy. Nobody gets in without a resident sticker…or a crisp $20 bill. (Rajid and I split the bribe money at the end of the day.)
Lardass and I exchanged shrugs. Then I remembered. “Crikey, it’s the Queen!”
Ever since we opened the organ transplant take-and-leave area, we started getting a lot more foreign traffic. By “foreign” I mean anyone who is not a resident of the town. The reusable Kidney area is particularly popular, but hearts and livers are also in demand by sub-prime medical facilities, and amputated limbs seem to be prized by local would-be Dr. Frankensteins.
75% of the dump is now devoted to some sort of recycling activity. Thanks to prescient leadership and a firm control of the budget by yours truly, the vision of a dump as a transition station rather than a landfill is becoming realized. We are a model for other DFM’s to emulate. Oh, I try to be modest, but it is hard when the dump you created and staffed is world famous. Not surprisingly, we often get visitors from far-flung places like Japan, Albania, New Jersey. They come dressed like tourists, taking pictures and interviewing the staff for insights. I notice many of our mid-east visitors spending a lot of time hanging around the plutonium recycle area. Often I have to go out with my AK-47 and caution the visitors that the take and leave material is for residents only.
LA was extolling the virtues of a downsized hard drive when the limos arrived. My intercom crackled, and the barely understandable voice of the new intern said, “Boss, I am having some limos at the gate with no stickers. They are saying that they are having an appointment…”
Rajeed, our new intern, was manning the entrance gate, checking stickers. When he beeped me on the intercom, he was following the new policy. Nobody gets in without a resident sticker…or a crisp $20 bill. (Rajid and I split the bribe money at the end of the day.)
Lardass and I exchanged shrugs. Then I remembered. “Crikey, it’s the Queen!”
2 comments:
"Crikey"!?! One trip to England and DFM becomes an anglophile. Geeezzz!!
Actually, I think "Crikey" is Australian. I've heard the exclaimation frequently in Crocadile Dundee movies.
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