The One That Is Talking About Rubbish. . .

How Snowolf Lane will look later today.

Tuesday.

Bin night on Snowolf Lane. At some point today two or three rubbish bags will magically appear on my street. It happens every fortnight for the bin collection. Rubbish bags left outside bins will not be collected (unless they are in special purple bags which can only be bought from the council at a cost of about £100 per bag), they will have a jaunty little yellow tag attached which reads 'Sorry! We cannot take this bag.'

Surprisingly this doesn't make the bags disappear, they are just left on the pavement for seagulls, rats and feral children to pick through. I also think the note should read 'Hey Prole, we're not going to take this bag as you've not complied with our very important rules.'

I've been getting a bit pissed off with this whole bag situation, so a fortnight ago I called the council about it. I should have known better. What I expected was for them to send a little man around in a little van who would spirit it away. What happened was a little man was sent around in a little van who knocked on my door and asked to be directed to the offending items.

It seemed obvious to me that he hadn't been on the local council 'recognising bin bags with little yellow tags sat on the pavement two days after the collection' course. So I showed him. He then produced some gloves and rummaged through the bags to see if he could find information relating to the dumper contained within. He couldn't. He resealed the bags and then said to me that they would have to be removed from the pavement.

I thought it meant HE was going to remove them. It didn't. He was suggesting I did it. I asked him why he wouldn't. He replied they could have hazardous waste in them.

Could have? Doesn't he know? Is his memory that short? He'd just bloody looked through them. I replied in the only language these people understand. 'I am not capable of recognising hazardous wate, nor have I been on an accredited lifting course. If I should suffer an injury moving these bags, my next action would be to take legal action against the council whom I would hold liable for damages.'

He humphed and went away. An hour or so later, another little man in a little van turned up, picked up the bags, put them in his little van and went away.

I'll point out the obvious here.

2008 - Three visits by the council or their sub-contractors finally removed the rubbish. This at a time when local authority budgets are apparently under pressure. No wonder.

1998 - Some burly blokes in a dustcart would come round, either pick up the bins and put them on their loader or empty them manually, and then pick up the bags on the pavement and chuck them in the back.

This is not progress. This is idiotarianism in action.