Garbage Day in Swillburg
On 10pm, Christmas night, I was driving home after dropping STBEW and her boyfriend off at his apartment.
That I was dropping the woman that I'm still married to off at her boyfriend's apartment wasn't the weirdest thing that happened that night.
Because on the way home, I passed a barbershop. Inside the barbershop was a barber. He was cutting someone's hair.
At ten o'clock at night.
Christmas night.
Although I have never experienced such a thing, I can imagine that there might be an event happening at eleven o'clock at night--even on Christmas night--for which a man might want to look his absolute best--including a tight coiffure.
However, I don't think I have ever met a barber dedicated enough to his craft to come in on any night--especially Christmas night--at ten o'clock, to do this for a man.
I bring this up now, because up until this afternoon, I thought I had seen the weirdest thing I would see this week.
I was wrong.
Thursday is the traditional garbage day in Swillburg. We all put on our traditional garbage day clothes* for the festive ritual of racing our cans and recycle bins to the curb before the grand arrival of the right-hand-drive garbage truck. Although, some of the more 'progressive' Swillburgers are eschewing the first part of the tradition, called das selbstlos**, and put their trash out the evening, or even the day, before the Great Garbageman arrives.
Things were confounded even more by the arrival of a holiday earlier in the week, which was marked by singing, and gift-giving, and, for some, a 10 o'clock haircut, which moved garbage day back to Friday.
So, this afternoon, as I was driving off to do errands, I spied what has to be the weirdest thing I've seen all week:
What the hell was that?
Those look like...golf bags!
Dayum...they are golf bags!
Twenty-three of them, in fact. Plus some lumber, and old end tables.
Twenty-three golf bags. Some in pretty decent condition.
So now, I must ask: What madness causes a man to think he needs twenty-three golfbags? Or is it something other than madness? If so, what? An ebay plan gone wrong? Or did he have twenty-four friends, all with the same idea of a perfect Christmas gift?
Anyone?
I have no answers. I merely remain open to the possibility that this may not be, in the end, the weirdest thing I see this week.
yeharr
*Unlaced boots, yesterday's pants, and an open bathrobe
**'the forgetting'
That I was dropping the woman that I'm still married to off at her boyfriend's apartment wasn't the weirdest thing that happened that night.
Because on the way home, I passed a barbershop. Inside the barbershop was a barber. He was cutting someone's hair.
At ten o'clock at night.
Christmas night.
Although I have never experienced such a thing, I can imagine that there might be an event happening at eleven o'clock at night--even on Christmas night--for which a man might want to look his absolute best--including a tight coiffure.
However, I don't think I have ever met a barber dedicated enough to his craft to come in on any night--especially Christmas night--at ten o'clock, to do this for a man.
I bring this up now, because up until this afternoon, I thought I had seen the weirdest thing I would see this week.
I was wrong.
Thursday is the traditional garbage day in Swillburg. We all put on our traditional garbage day clothes* for the festive ritual of racing our cans and recycle bins to the curb before the grand arrival of the right-hand-drive garbage truck. Although, some of the more 'progressive' Swillburgers are eschewing the first part of the tradition, called das selbstlos**, and put their trash out the evening, or even the day, before the Great Garbageman arrives.
Things were confounded even more by the arrival of a holiday earlier in the week, which was marked by singing, and gift-giving, and, for some, a 10 o'clock haircut, which moved garbage day back to Friday.
So, this afternoon, as I was driving off to do errands, I spied what has to be the weirdest thing I've seen all week:
What the hell was that?
Those look like...golf bags!
Dayum...they are golf bags!Twenty-three of them, in fact. Plus some lumber, and old end tables.
Twenty-three golf bags. Some in pretty decent condition.
So now, I must ask: What madness causes a man to think he needs twenty-three golfbags? Or is it something other than madness? If so, what? An ebay plan gone wrong? Or did he have twenty-four friends, all with the same idea of a perfect Christmas gift?
Anyone?
I have no answers. I merely remain open to the possibility that this may not be, in the end, the weirdest thing I see this week.
yeharr
*Unlaced boots, yesterday's pants, and an open bathrobe
**'the forgetting'
posted by Balloon Pirate at 10:56 PM
18 Comments:
#1 I can't see the pictures but it could be because I use IE...sorry about that.
#2 My racing the garbage to the curb attire is a nightie, the garbage men always wait for me ;)
x:
#1 I think it's fixed.
#2 No doubt. However, if I did that, it's unlikely the garbagemen would ever come back to swillburg.
yeharr
I see the pictures now!
Thank God my Dad didn't see those.
He'd be collecting Golf Bags as well as balls!
Did I tell you that I never have to tip my garbage men?
perhaps you have a crazy hoarder in your midst?
or a secret golf club that's gone out of business?
Very cool - I don't know which weird thing I like best, but there's probably a short story or film to be taken from both.
In fact, maybe the two can be connected: Dude has a revelation on Christmas Day and decides to change his life. He starts by convincing his brother-in-law barber (or a barber who owes him a BIG favour) to cut his long, wild man hair.
Throughout the week, he makes some other big changes (like giving up bread, swearing and sarcasm). By the end of the week, he's filled with energy and feels like a new man. He looks in the mirror while he's shaving (another new habit) and says out loud to himself, "That's it, man. I'm doin' it. I'm getting rid of my golf bag collection. . . . "
I like Guy's idea!
People are hoarders. I know it because I've struggled with it! I'm trying not to hoard so much STUFF!
Looks like somebody finally got sick of counting golf bags. Made for a somewhat arty shot though, eh?
What a great Christmas you've had. Cheers!
strange
very very strange
Did it occur to you that the gentleman ma be in the militaty and reporting back for duty on the day after Christmas?
Guy, your idea rocks.
Now if that could be tied into the weirdness with your stbew...
dang i would kill for twenty three golf bags
X: Sounds like you tip them every week.
Terry: Probably the former, but wouldn't it be cool if it was the latter?
Guy: Maybe he gets his haircut after a strange interlude where he gets sent back six weeks in time while watching a movie in a theater...
Heidi: I'm getting to be the same way--hoarding is just another way of being afraid that what's inside your own skin's not enough.
Colleen: Indeed. Very indeed.
UWL: No, nor did it occur to me that he was a badminton player with a messiah complex. What's your point?
AAG: I've got enough ties with STBEW as it is. I want no more--even fictionalized.
dlh: really? would you maim for eighteen?
yeharr
Here's a thought...maybe neither the barber nor the patron celebrate Christmas?
You know that scene in every chick flick where the girl gets mad at her significant other and tosses out all his stuff through the upstairs window . . . This woman must have great arms.
Happy New Yeharr you legend!
good thing my dad didn't see it or he would have been phoning me to see if i could pick up a golf bag just in case i ever needed one
then he'd call me back to see what i did
then he'd call back to see if i really didn't want one of them because they were in good shape
and would i come over and pick it up because he doesn't want it cluttering up his place because he picked it up for me in case i missed it and really did want one...
funny pictures
best wishes in the new year
oh, and for the record, i suspect i would be happy to drive my wife, that i'm still married to, over to her boyfriend's place...
now if she'd only get one
*LMAO* I'm telling you, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you living in the same town as me, and possibly a member of my family.
I didn't mean for that to sound snotty, I just worded it badly. It was just a suggestion for why the guy was getting his hair cut. I should have read it before I posted it.
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