Beware the Yellow Water

Something has bothered me since I moved into this neighborhood. At first I didn't nottice it, but over the last thirteen months of walking the dogs it has become quite apparent. Water bottles, mostly empty water bottles everywhere. They are strewn across lawns and scattered on the street. I'm pretty sure that I know where these water bottles are coming from. Uber drivers. I know that when you get into an Uber car, the driver often offers you a bottle of water as if he has just picked you up in the middle of the Sahara Desert. I am pretty sure that either asshole passengers are getting out of the car and tossing the bottles, or it is the driver who cannot stop working long enough to slake their thirst in a proper location. Like a shark, an Uber driver has to keep moving or go broke. So they grab one of those water bottles when they get thirsty and keep on going, checking their phone with one hand, sucking down the water with the other hand, while steering with their knees. And that's not the only problem with the water bottles. Some Uber drivers don't want to stop to take a leak either. So you have to be very careful when cleaning up those bottles from your front yard. Yesterday was the last straw. I walked outside and there at the curb were not only a couple of water bottles, but two bags of garbage. Somebody had dumped everything from their car onto the street in front of my house.

In my anger a plan came to me. I remembered a record from 1967 by Arlo Guthrie. It's a long narrative about a bunch of hippies getting together for Thanksgiving, I believe. At some point they have to get rid of some garbage, but being out in the country meant that they had to carry it all the way to the dump. The lazy hippies, instead of going all the way to the dump, tossed it out on the side of the road where the Sheriff found it. By picking through the garbage the Sheriff figured out where it came from and arrested the hippies.

I grabbed those bags of garbage that I found in front of my house and took them into the backyard where I proceeded to pick through them. I was going to figure out who dumped them and mail that garbage back to them, maybe with an extra package included. An extra package of dog poo. I have plenty laying around here. Sure enough, there were a bunch of letters, bank statements, and other things with the person's name on them. Sadly, there is nothing I can do about it. I won't mail them a dog shit filled package with their garbage. I won't even mail them the garbage without the dog shit. You see, the garbage was dumped by my next door neighbor. Obviously an asshole, but I am not in any mood to start a neighborhood war. So I took all that garbage, all those water bottles, and tossed them into my garbage can out back. It took very little effort.