>This morning it was freezing ass cold outside, so I bundled up like Nanook of the North to do the only chore I hate as much as cleaning out the cat box. I scuttled to the dumpster to toss the bags of garbage I had been too lazy to throw out last week.
As the wind bit at my face, I readied my arm to throw the first bag and saw a rather large man in a bright green sweatshirt standing inside the dumpster. Being that I live in what I had considered to be a somewhat decent neighborhood (lone random murder aside), I was uncertain as to what this man’s intentions were in said dumpster.
The large man heard me grumbling under my breath, jumped out of the dumpster (rather agile for someone of his girth) and offered to help me with my bags of garbage. I was torn between dropping said bags and running for my life or being a responsible tenant and taking care of my refuse. It was at this point that I noticed his pin-striped sweat pants.
I said, “I can handle them myself, thanks,” and tossed the bags past him into the dumpster and ran for my life. I should have told him that if he planned to steal my identity he’d be sorely disappointed. My credit is in the shitter and what little cash I have will surely be spent by the time he figures out how to access it.