So I finally snapped and stood up to “Crazy Bin Lady”. Basically, I took some recycling downstairs and placed it in, what I could best discern, was the correct wheelie bin. I’m visually impaired, so it’s becoming more and more difficult to work out which is which. I also slightly overfilled it, but that point is really neither here nor there. Within 5 minutes of me returning to my flat, in perfect comedic timing, “Crazy Bin Lady” was out there routing through what I had just discarded. This means she is officially sat in her property, 24 hours a day 7 days a week, monitoring who takes what out to the wheelie bins.
Yikes. There are way more nutritious hobbies out there for a person.
I didn’t confront her in person, as I’m not an aggressive prick, instead simply calling down to her, in a polite but authoritarian voice, for her to stop going through her neighbours’ garbage and that the council will deal with such a thing. Silence. Then she started beavering away again at my flattened beer cans. I called down again, never using strong language or calling her names. More routing. One final polite demand. She stopped and scurried back indoors. I half expected to hear a cat-style hiss as she went, but nothing.
I’ve either gotten through to her, or I’ve just started a petty war with a lunatic who’s main hobby is going through garbage.
It could also be the start to the greatest offbeat rom-com ever: “A man terrified of people going through his garbage. A woman obsessed with going through people’s garbage. Now they’re neighbours!”. The box office receipts speak for themselves.
Good grief.
Regardless, not only is what she’s doing unnecessary, but it’s unhygienic, potentially harmful to her, and an invasion of her neighbours’ privacy. What I throw out is a matter between me and the bin collectors. Sometimes she just goes out there to smooth the garbage out by running her hand over it. Again… yikes! I have recycling piling up in my home due to her, as I know she’s going to scurry out, like a rat, and rummage through it and dump what she doesn’t approve of outside my door.
The latter is illegal and a fire hazard and puts me in an awkward position, as it looks like I’ve dumped it out there.
So, yes, the moral of this story is that, if you live in communal council housing with assigned environmental wardens and find yourself unnecessarily routing through your neighbours’ garbage for absolutely no reason whatsoever, please chat to your doctor. I’m sure there are many, many, many forms of antipsychotic medication they can prescribe you.
Do stay in touch, darlings.
Toodles!
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