Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Looks Like A Job For DSI (Dumpster Scene Investigators)

Yesterday's spate of 40 mph wind gusts wreaked havoc with our trash dumpster. When I went outside to walk around 4:15, I saw that it was sprawled all cattywompus across the back end of the carport. All that was missing was yellow crime scene tape around the perimeter. Dumpy was on his side, his lid gaping open like the mouth of Farmer H when he dozes in the La-Z-Boy.

I thought nothing of it. Dumpy has been known to topple over every now and then, like a freshman sorority gal at her first TKE House kegger. I knew I had to move him, because his lid was hanging over in the section where Farmer H parks my mom's old 2002 TrailBlazer with no working 4WD that we paid entirely too much for half of to my sister the ex-mayor's wife. I tried dragging him back behind the not-driven 1980 Olds Toronado (scene of a mysterious pooping incident), and turning Dumpy over on his back, but his lid wouldn't stay shut, and I didn't want Jack and Copper running in there to shred the lone trash bag he held at the time. So I tipped Dumpy over on his belly, where his lid flapped shut due to gravity.

Juno did not deign to join us until the end of the walk, and she whimpered and sniffed at Dumpy and acted a bit anxious like her old pal Poor Dumb Ann. I don't know why she cared. The dumpster has nothing to do with her, except she comes running to watch when one of us pulls it up or down the driveway. She used to run along with The Pony, but I guess I'm too slow for a good romp.

Imagine my surprise when I walked out today and saw this:


That's a little pile of gravel on Dumpy's back! How in tarnation did THAT get there? I suppose it's plausible that those divider thingies held it there when I tipped Dumpy over. But let's remember that I first put him on his back, then on his side, and THEN on his belly like this. So one would assume that pieces of gravel, if scooped up during the wallowing, would have fallen off. Due to gravity, you know.

Here's a closer look:


There was no rhyme nor reason to this gravel rubble. Not a mini Stonehenge, it didn't spell R E D R U M, there wasn't an X marking a spot, or a target for practice. Something's fishy here, but I don't want to imagine what. These fleabags WOOF their heads off all hours of the night. I don't want to think about somebody (I imagine that Michael Myers guy, escaped mental patient age, in the mask from Halloween) standing out there shenaniganning while I sat in my basement watching TV.

I had just taken out a bag of trash to put in before pulling Dumpy up the driveway for tomorrow's pickup. So don't think Dumpy "refunded" in the driveway. You might also notice that his lid doesn't match the barrel, if you know what I mean. Since we've had him for 20 years, his handle had cracked. Rather than retire Dumpy and give us a strapping young version, the trash company put a new lid on him. A lesser lid. The cinnamon babka of the trash dumpster lid world. You can see that the new-lid middle part of that handle is hollow. It's quite uncomfortable gripping it while dragging Dumpy the length of the driveway, over uneven, unpacked gravel. At least in the winter my hand is cushioned by a glove.

What say YOU, my fellow internet sleuths? Any possible scenarios? Or do I have to call Mystery, Inc.?
_______________________________________________________________________

OOH!!! I just figured it out, looking at that picture one final time before hitting PUBLISH.
I'll explain it in the comments if nobody else does.

4 comments:

Kathy's Klothesline said...

We have quite a few of those trashcans throughout the park and the wind blew them everywhere. We have one at the dog park, two at the pool and two at the satellite bath house. During camping season, we add a few more at sites with lots of beer drinkers, trying to make it easy for them to dispose of their cans. They are clearly marked for cans and for trash, but I am getting carried away, because everybody knows that drunks don't read. That hollow handle will fill with gravel if it flips over just right. But ... I still am amazed, that with all the trash and can receptacles, the campers will still try to put all their garbage in the small trash can located right next to the toilet ....

Sioux said...

HM--I am horrible at solving mysteries. I give up before I even try.

Keep your fingers crossed for a snow day (for me) on Friday. Please!

fishducky said...

I give up!!

Hillbilly Mom said...

Kathy,
Winner, winner, tiny-pieces-of-chicken dinner! Here's what I noticed at the last minute before hitting PUBLISH:

There is a rock up in the hollow handle part, and mud over on the right side of the handle. I figure that while I was rooting it around where I found it, on its back with its lid flapped open, some gravel got up in there. I turned it on its side, then on its belly. The gravel was stuck in the handle groove UNTIL I lifted the lid to see if the dogs would be able to nose it open and walk in there. That's when the gravel fell out of the handle. I was so preoccupied with dogproofing Dumpy that I didn't even notice, or look at it again when I walked by on the way into the house.

Nothing your campers do would surprise me anymore! You are lucky they don't decide to put their trash in the toilet.

***
Sioux,
You'll never have the world by the tail with THAT attitude, Madam! Of course, you know what would be directly in front of you if you had the world by the tail...

I've had my fingers crossed since 1:00 this afternoon. I hope it worked. If so, I'm pretty sure I was fully responsible. You're welcome.

***
fishducky,
At least it took you a few hours longer than Sioux to throw in the towel. You two will go gas-station-chickenless today! Let that be a lesson for you!