I saw something this morning that gave me a renewed appreciation for people. I want to give a special “Thank You” acknowledgment to the man driving City of Austin solid waste truck number 10G758. This was at about 8:45 am this morning and it was in the area in the Northwest off Anderson Mill near to US 183.
Now I know you are dying to know what I was doing over to Anderson Mill at that time of day so I’ll tell you. Dr. Sam I. Am is on vacation and I drew the short straw to walk her little rat dog every day. So Dixie and Streaker Jones and I are doing the almost hour-long up-and-down-the-fucking hills walk with this little shitbird.
Sam doesn’t allow me to use the actual names of her “children” in any of my writings, so let’s just call the little runt “Squirt”. Squirt is this half wiener dog and half Mexican Chihuahua ball of smarts and energy. A long and muscled body with short legs support a head that is more Latin than Teutonic. She’s way smarter than Dixie, has more spunk than a nine-year-old gymnast and has somehow learned to pee one drop at a time.
Squirt and Sammie live in this nifty neighborhood that’s all hills, so this morning’s walk is real exercise. I’m in pretty good shape for an old fart, but this little shitbird drags me breathless the entire route. She wants to run the whole way at full clip, all the time making these immediate, jolting stops to drip one drop of puppy pee in spots which seem to be predetermined by Squirt.
We make maybe 137 of these stops on each walk. OK, we make exactly 137 of these stops on each walk. I have counted them. I’ve counted them each of the six days I have been walked.
Yesterday I got pissed at getting jerked around by the ten pound brute, and at stop number 126, I lost my temper and yelled at her.
“Nobody needs to pee this much you little shitbird. Your dry-peeing is worse than your dry-humping.”
Squirt loves to dry hump folks.
Anyway, Dixie is teaching Squirt how to talk, so Squirt says back to me, she says, “Flockinsieg your glickenstiner und tu cerveza Carta Blanca.”
Dixie is using an ultra-intensive language teaching method where you teach multiple languages at the same time, so I usually need a translator at this early stage of Squirt’s lessons. I say, “Dixie, what the hell did she just try to say?”
“Well, asshole,” my loving dog started, “Squirt just told you she wants to piss in your beer.”
“Crapsicles Dixie. Could you at least get her to where I can understand her insults before you teach her how to talk back.”
Why does every woman in my life talk back at me?
So today, at pee stop 88, when Squirt pulled us over to the curb to pee, I squatted quickly to the ground with my face to Squirt’s butt so I could see if she was actually doing anything. She squats her little tushie to the grass and looks over her shoulder at me with a grin on her face. We stare for maybe three minutes. Squirt stares at me with that grin, and I’m glaring at her little wedge of girl dog plumbing.
Then Squirt says to me, she says, “Waaaaait…. waaait… wait… Now!”
And on “Now!” the muscles around her rear-end do a little dance and this one, pathetic drop drips out.
Holy shit guys, I am ADD digressing this compliment of a City worker to death.
The point to all of this is that as I was squatted down at pee stop number 88 watching Sam’s ungrateful poochie drip a drop, the driver of truck number 10G758 was performing a remarkable act of kindness.
The driver was emptying trash containers on his route, which I assume is his job. Should be a safe assumption since Wednesday is Sammie’s trash day and this is a City truck picking up the trash. According to the brochure Sam left for me to read so I would be certain to get her trash properly picked up- the driver’s job is to: …”drive, stop at the can, and push the button that starts the mechanical process of container dumping, finish said process and drive away.”
The driver does nothing else. Cans must be placed, just so, at the curb in just the right spot and by the right time. I believe all of that because I have seen homeowners in other parts of town racing down the street behind sanitation trucks, pulling their big containers.
But the driver of number 10G758 must dance to a different drummer. He was at this one house with a very steep drive where an older lady lives. Maybe she has a man living with her, but I have only seen the lady. The big truck stopped, the driver got out, and he walked maybe thirty paces up the steep drive and brought the lady’s container to the curb. I notice that he did properly place the container at the curb so I know he read that part of the memo.
He dumped and drove to the next house. And as he passed our group, me on hands-and-knees with my nose stuck up a dog’s ass, he gave us a huge toothy smile and a wave.
Of course, after we left Squirt with her “sitter” I got pulled over by a Sheriff Deputy. To quote the officer, “Step out of the car, sir- hands where I can see them.”
“What now?” my stock and standard reply to these situations.
“I said show me your hands sir. You don’t want me to Taser you, do you sir?”
I replied, again my stock and standard, “Not today, officer. My girlfriend works the late shift on Wednesdays so I don’t need the Taser jolt or the resulting stiffy. But please, pray tell, what did I do now?”
“Sir, a nice lady over on the next street was dumping her trash and saw a man molesting a little dog. You fit the description of the man. Now tell me what you did with the dog.”
Anyway, I’ve got a court appearance next week to clear all of this up. But I need a favor from you guys.
Please tell the City what a good guy drives truck number 10G758- click on www.cityofaustin.org/connect/email311.htm. You have to click to get to the City site and then click “Contact Us” to wiggle through their web trickery.