Ordering a Long Wait
I know you have all been sitting on the edges of your seats.
You are all dying to know the outcome of my wait that I had on Monday?
In the end, my wait lasted until Thursday.
Last week I ordered a skip [or "dumpster" as you ignorant Merkans call it]. I ordered it on line and everything went smoothly. I gave the site all my details and it happily chewed them up, but then it stopped. I never got to that final "Thank you for your order" shit that most sites throw up.
I phoned the company and got talking to a nice chatty Young Thing, who probably looked like the rear view of a rhinoceros, but she sounded nice. I told her what had happened and she cheerfully announced that yes, my order had gone through and my skip was to be delivered on Monday in the PM [the website gave an option of AM or PM – they obviously like to be exact].
You know what happened on Monday. No fucking delivery.
I phoned them again on Tuesday morning. They happily announced that there was no record of my order on the system. I explained as patiently as I could [I can show remarkable restraint at times] that I had confirmed the order the previous week, and could she check again. She did and cheerfully announced that she had found the order but it had been canceled for some reason she couldn't explain. I cheerfully made some suggestions that involved computers and anal orifices.
To cut a long story short, I placed another order and the skip duly arrived yesterday very promptly in the PM.
My general intention is to clear out the garage which has been accumulating rubbish and junk for the last fifteen or so years. It had reached the stage where there was only a narrow passageway to the door into the house, and apart from wanting to clear the place a bit, there is talk of installing a central heating boiler in the corner. I am led to believe that it is quite a difficult job to install a boiler under about five feet of festering rubbish?
I made a great start last evening. By the time I shut down operations, the skip was already a quarter full and the garage looked like a bomb had hit it. I could even see new areas of floor that hadn't seen daylight in decades. A good days work.
This morning, the skip was full. However, having duly returned three double mattresses, four sacks of disgusting underwear, an old black and white television, a rotting dog kennel and a Fiat Punto to their rightful owners, the skip is now only a quarter full again.
Time for some work…….
The Punto was not mine……….. I've done some low things in my time but drive a Fiat? ugh
I know that wasn't yours.
So you buy your underwear in Dunnes?
I refuse to incriminate myself, you'll have to shell out for DNA tests to make that one 'stick'!
A couple of days after the company picks up the skip, are you going to let them know that you're a smoker? The resulting panic would be quite something: police in hazmat suits surrounding the business and escorting people away to quarantine, hospitalizations from psychosomatic third and fourth hand smoke, the local coucil trying to track down every last rotting dog kennel and sack of underwear at the local dump, roadblocks set up to test every last fiat punto for traces of nicotine (complete with gas chromatographs)…The possibilities are endless.
The last business I had in UK involved toxic (ish) waste, and I had a contract with a local skip firm who left a skip permanently on site, and would exchange it when it was full. Because it was 'toxic' waste, they charged me a fucking fortune to dispose of it. (I think at the time a normal skip was about 50 quid, and I was paying close to 400) It was only after a couple of years I found out that my skip went to the local landfill just the same as all the other skips, the only difference being that they marked on a grid approximately where mine had been dumped. WTF?
They screw you every which way…
You'll be pleased to hear that there is all sorts of nasties going into that skip of mine – a few cans of something I definitely wouldn't drink, some highly suspicious bottles and the creme de la creme, I even eptied an ashtray into it. The latter makes it positively lethal as everyone knows that tobacco has a half life of several billion years.
oo work well done then, however, having wandered south across the 'merican boarder I beleive you are in error they don't call them "dumpsters" they seem to call them "self storage" facilities as there was a shit load of them every state we went through! seriously who needs that much stuff that you need to rent a space to store more of the stuff.
Those "self storage" things are basically just room sized left luggage rooms, aren't they? Why anyone would want to rent a room just to store junk is beyond me, but then maybe I have led a sheltered life?
Ladies and "Gentelemen.
This is a public service announcement.
We are ALL being right royally screwed,the only known anti-dote is a bottle of whiskey,2 six packs ,shotgun and a pack of smokes.As we say in this here neck of the wood:fuck the begrudgers.
What the hell brought that on? A bottle of whiskey and two six packs perhaps?
Sounds like something we'll be doing come next year after my wife retires from her 'brick and mortar' (meaning store) with the possible exception of the Fiat. And 'cuz I have to say it…
…"dumpster" makes all the sense in the world as it refers to a large metal container you "dump" things in. Sooo…how does the term "skip" relate in any way, shape or form to a metal container you dump things in?