Today I rode my ghetto bike downtown and parked on 15th and Market while I ran some errands. When I came back to my bike about 1.5 hours later, there was a black bag of trash in my ghetto basket.
I didn't open the black plastic bag. It is better in my brain for me to just think of it as generic "trash" rather than to speculate what kind of trash. But I looked around and there was a trash can not 30 feet away from me, just down the sidewalk. You didn't have to cross the street to get to it. You didn't even have to go around anything.
It is this disgusting laziness that makes me despise humanity. Then my mom goes and sends me an email about a four year old girl who's dog died. The girl was worried God wouldn't recognize her dog, so she wrote a letter to God, put a stamp on it, and sent it. A couple days later she received a book by Mr. Rogers ("When a Pet Dies...") and a letter from "God" saying that her dog was safe in heaven. It is this kind of kindness that gives me a sliver of hope for humanity.
Then I find trash in my ghetto basket...
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
3 comments:
I'm sorry... I CRACKED up about the trash being left in your basket. Hahahahahahahahaha
Dear TPF,
Isn't it possible it was a present? Seeing as how you didn't look inside the bag, we may never know!
Sad,
HM
Dear Hootie, next time I'll save it for you to open and we can share whatever joyful contents the bag contains!
Post a Comment