Dumpster Diving for Boxes

Many of you know that I moving to Houston... of course I am procrastinating which is my "MO" - Yes, I'm supposed to be packing instead of blogging, but like, whatever - not like it's not gonna get packed in the end, right? Anyway, I need boxes so I headed over to one store where I was told I could get them from the manager... turns out they are a bit unreliable but nonetheless I managed to find a few boxes albeit stained with grease and food stuff but I can't afford to be picky. As I was loading them into the car, the garbage truck came along and the driver leaned out.
"Hey, Bud. You need still need boxes?"
"Ya, sure." I thought he was going to yell at me or something as some people can get a little weird over boxes, but instead he told me a few other places I could dumpster dive. I thanked him and set off. He was right as I managed to find several boxes in the sizes I needed but not the amount. His suggestion spurred me on to determine that I could cruise all the shopping center back alleys and cherry pick what I needed. Ironically, however my idea turned into a race against time as my helpful friend still had a job to do so I had to keep one step ahead of him. At times I would luck out, but since I didn't know his route more often than not I would be beat to the treasure. Then I figured I would just head to another area of town an resume the mission.
I headed south closer to where I lived and struck pay dirt. The only catch being that in many of the dumpsters I literally had to perform ninja-like acrobatics in order to fish out the good stuff. A small price - I can wear Armani and I can wallow in trash - whatever it takes to get the job done. Besides this was getting fun appealing to my hunter-gatherer instincts and the thrill of discovery combined with Venti Latte started getting my juices pumped. And with no competition now this shouldn't take much longer which was good given that the temperature was now climbing over 100 degrees.

However, my short-lived free-for-all was to be short lived as a mini-van pulled up next to me and a squad of healthily-proportioned Arkansas natives (chubby redneck yokels) popped out. Apparently they were also on a quest for the same prey and they descended on the dumpsters like buzzards. They looked as surprised as I did that fate had conspired to bring us together at exactly the same moment in time at exactly the same trash bin. I smiled with quiet glee in the fact that I had beat them to the bounty offered at this cornucopia of cardboard and quickly chucked my haul into the car and sped off leaving them to rummage amongst the dregs.

As I pulled out I noticed that they were following me. Quickly deducing that given the fact that they looked harmless (native weaponry excluded) they were looking to capitalize on my excellent tracking skills. My competitive nature took hold as I threw them off my scent and ditching them at traffic lights and darting down side-streets and alleys to dumpsters so secret they are thought to be only legend. Of course, to my delight these temples of trash yielded exactly what I had hoped. I am the Indiana Jones of dumpster diving able to dodge large rolling mass of garbage trucks as well as wild-eyed and blood thirsty natives seeking to thwart my quest for the treasure... Yes! Take that! In your face! (singing) We are the Champions! Weeee Arrrre the Champions! We Are The Champions - of the world!

... as I think about it I guess I need to interact more with people as I tend to fantasize waaaaay too much these days.

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