I know what you're thinking, but the problem is that I've never really seen the garbage man. I put the garbage out at night and it's not there in the morning. It's as simple as that. I've even stood there at the living room window hoping to get a glimpse of him driving by, but eventually I had to let the dog out, or go to the bathroom, or make breakfast and as soon as I turned my attention to something else, I came back and the garbage was gone.
It really started to spook me.
Last week I thought I had the perfect answer. I tied a string to the garbage can and tied the other end to a little bell, which I hung in the kitchen. A few minutes later, the bell rang. I ran to the window. The garbage was still there. I went out to the street, just to see if there was a dog or other animal nearby. Nothing. As soon as I got back in, the bell rang. I ran to the window. The garbage was still there. This kept up for several hours, the bell ringing and me going to the window until, in desperation, I cut the string. The next time I looked out the window, the garbage was gone.
I got the idea that he could see me looking out the living room window. That's why he wasn't showing up. So last weekend I bought a whole bunch of electronic equipment. I set up a video camera on the roof. I hooked it up to all the electronics, which I hid in the den. I made plenty of tuna sandwiches and brought in several large bottles of pop. I didn't take my eyes off the screen the whole day. I ate plenty of sandwiches and drank a lot of pop. Nothing happened on the screen. The garbage just sat there. After the sun went down, I couldn't see any more, so I shut down the electronics. I went out to the end of the driveway to bring in the garbage.
It was gone.
I took the electronic stuff back to the store. I told them it didn't work. They gave me my money back, but they looked at me as if they didn't believe me. Maybe it was that dazed, desperate look in my eyes.
I am writing this from inside the garbage can at the end of the driveway. I am writing this with the absolute certainty that there is a garbage man, and that, sooner or later, our garbage will be taken and that I will see the face of the garbage man as I fly head first into the jaws of the trash compactor.
I know what you're thinking, but the problem is that I have never really seen the garbage dump. I know it must exist...