The city in which I live has a yearly purge. Individuals call it Spring Cleaning, I don’t know what the city calls it.

What makes this purge unique is the absolute dissolution of garbage segregation. There are no judgements made based on creed, color, or volume of waste. No sorting need be done based on grade of material, quality of organics, or recyclability. If you want to throw out anything, then throw it out you shall! This without, mind you, the dated and inconvenient practice of putting your refuse in “cans” or so-called “garbage bags” and the like. Nay, a few sturdy backs and some dirty hands are all you need, ’cause govnah, you can pile your crap on the street!

Let me repeat that. You can place your garbage in piles on the street.

Huge piles. In the street. Of anything.

The first year I moved here, the ever increasing mounds of broken TV’s, refrigerators, soiled mattresses, bricks, tree stumps, two-wheeled tricycles, failed beer bottle collections and the like, had me convinced that I had coincidentally moved in a mere few months before all city services had been simply abandoned and it was now everyone for themselves.

I’m now a bit wiser, and am actually impressed with what a cool service that is for the city to provide. Nevertheless, I still shudder a bit to think of scenarios where the garbage trucks decide not to come after all.

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