i respect the work ethic necessary to collect enough bottles worth only 5 cents each to total enough money to supplement a meagre income. i admire the tenacity of some folks who make it out every single recycling eve in whatever weather to pluck the valuables from the waste.
what i don’t respect and admire and what is going to make me go ballistic someday is how they “steal” my bottles from my backyard. once they’re on the street, they’re up for grabs. when the back is only 1/4 full (and half of that is opened tins. not returnables), it’s not free for the taking! my apartment is very small and i can’t keep the bag inside until it fills up. afraid of being busted for trespassing, no doubt they take the whole bag rather than pick out what they want out of it and leave the rest. the whole environment angle is gone the instant you greedy, impatient fuckwads make me burn through 12 blue bags in a month. that’s a lot of plastic. and seriously… how many of you bottle collectors would appreciate finding a complete stranger rummaging through your shit on your backyard deck after dark? in the middle of asking one collector to please respect my space, he kept repeating defensively “i ain’t stealing it!”. hello? did you have to come onto someone else’s private proerty to get your hands on it? is it yours? were you about to walk away with something that doesn’t belong to you without permission? i think you’d call it stealing if it was happening at your place to your stuff. i think a judge would too.
i don’t give a shit how hard your life is. learn to respect other people’s shit and space. anyone who bothers to knock on my door and ask nicely gets ALL my returnables. to anyone else who wants my bottles: wait til they’re put out on the street, then help yourself.
i’ve tried being nice. that didn’t work. i’ve tried being firm that didn’t work either. i’m moving onto total asshole. if i see you in my backyard, i’m not warning you again. i’m calling the cops to report a burglar, and then i’m going to follow you if you manage to leave before the cops arrive and give them your location.
—grrrThis article appears in Nov 12-18, 2009.
Simmer down little one. Calling Cops on a tramp who wants to filch your recyclables is a bit harsh. Here’s a tip: buy another garbage can or some other large container for your recyclables, place it on your porch and dump your cans in there. The hobos can pick out what they need and then you can dump the rest into a blue bag once there is enough of it to actually fill the bag. Easy.
Alternatively, make a deal with one of the hobos and tell him/her that he will get exclusive access to your recyclables every week at a specific time. He’ll make sure to let his colleagues know that it his turf.
Strikes, I don’t think OP should have to cater since it is OP who is the provider here.
Damn dirty apes should be at least obliging enough not to break the law to get 15-30 cents worth of cans….
boot-fuck ’em, I say.
I am with the OP on this one – if being MORE than reasonable enough hasn’t worked yet I say kick ’em to the curb – the rummagers I mean!
I say take the cans and bottles back yourself, use the money to buy a bear trap and place the trap at the bottom of the blue bag you leave on the porch. Use the blue bag to stuff the dead hobo in and let nature ‘recycle’ him in the ravine.
Look at it this way – its your yard which equates to private property – so when your fist hits his mouth a couple times ( it was dark – didn’t know who or what the tresspasser was doing ) maybe he’ll tell his (“posse ” of tramps to stay out the yard ? Kick his ass and get it over with – its fuckin stealing if its not on the curb
put the whole works in a cardboard box instead of a see-through bag. Erect a nifty little sign that says “HANDS OFF”. You could even draw a picture for the illiterate ones. And THEN call the police if such an obvious communication fails and if your recyclables mean so dam much to ya. Oh and thank you for not “boot-fucking” the less fortunate and most desperate people of Nova Scotia. One at a time we make the world a better place, don’t we?
some of the richest people are this much of a tight-wad….
I knew a millionaire who would always only go to the late show so he didn’t have to buy popcorn, he’d eat someone’s leftovers from the movie prior.