Living with five other guys this year, there has been one problem that waxes and wanes every few weeks with the cycles of the moon. That problem is the piles of trash overflowing out of the trash bags, into our kitchen sink, onto the floor and slowly working its way into the smallest corners of the apartment.
I realize this is all quite ironic, considering how my last post was about how I am just the cleanliest young bro on the block these days. And I’m not saying that post was a lie; it just applied to literally no other part of my apartment besides the 100-square foot space that is my room. Step outside my room, in fact, and you’ll end up right in our kitchen, a.k.a. “ScatterBox” — the epicenter of all things unholy and unhygienic. Well, unhygienic at least. Also, we don’t actually call it “ScatterBox.” It’s real name is “The Greasy Spoon.”
Yes, it would certainly be fair to blame us for the mess — the inhabitants of 426 Eddy, Apartment 4. But I’m going to use this little bully pulpit of mine to kvetch about another cause of overflowing trash bags in apartments across Collegetown: the exorbitantly priced “trash tags.” Collegetown residents are expected to place a single trash tag — averaging about four dollars a pop — on each bag of trash that goes on the curb. Bags without tags are not picked up on trash days (Tuesdays and Fridays), and Collegetown residents are threatened with fines if they try to slip tag-less bags past the discerning eyes of our neighborhood trash collectors. Now, I’m certain the money from these trash tags go to a fair place, and I don’t think it’s any of my business to complain about the trash tag system when I really don’t know too much about its origins or necessities. But $24 for six tags? I’m sorry, but for cash-strapped Collegetown residents, that’s going to mean a lot of missed trash days. And a lot of accumulating trash.
At this particular moment, things are coming to a breaking point with our trash. Making it even more frustrating is that just last week, when we hosted a pre-game for a campus group myself and several other roommates are involved in, we were able to see the apartment in all its trash-less glory: the video-game chairs that double as speakers, the big-screen TV that came with the apartment — everything looked infinitely more classy. Of course, within 24 hours following the pregame, the trash was piling up again. I’m thinking one of us is going to buy trash tags tonight — probably me — to ameloriate the situation, but if not, then it’s just going to be another week of eating lunch in The Greasy Spoon.
p.s. We don’t actually call it The Greasy Spoon.