I haven't had to stretch too far to show that my next door neighbor is lazy. Lest you've forgotten, read about the dead fish, the mulch pile, or the one-year-old, Portugese-speaking baby. But now comes a new level of laze. For the past few weeks, I've noticed an extra black trash bag appearing in my garbage bin. I only use white bags.
Today was trash day and last night, I caught all 350 shirtless pounds of Howard sneaking back across the street from the neighbor's garbage can. Apparently I was too slow getting mine out to the curb, so Howard had to go across the street. I can't help but wondering if that really is less work than actually dragging his own garbage can from the side of the house.
Of course, the real irony is that Howard takes out the trash at all. With a greasy sheen for a floor; ants crawling on the counter tops; dead fish under the furniture and dog crap on the bottom of everybody's feet, what could be so repulsive that even Howard throws it away?
Best I not find out. My garbage can will be at the curb Sunday and Wednesday nights.