It was the heaviest load of garbage I’d ever faced*.

“Hey, I’ll take the garbage out,” I’d said at work, desiring an excuse to escape the sweltering kitchen and get some outside air, not realizing the full weight of the situation. I soon found myself schlumping down the dark hallway, plastic garbage can in tow behind me, loaded with garbage.

The door at the back of the building would lock behind me, which wasn’t a big deal on such a beautiful day except that I didn’t want to have to stroll down half a block and around to come in the store’s front door hauling a huge plastic garbage can.

It began.

First, I tried wedging the plastic can so that the door wouldn’t shut. This prevented me from getting decent angle on the bag inside. Leverage was impossible. I tried one way, then another, the door squeezing the can. I pulled and squirmed and braced myself against the dumpster and tried to use my feet to push the can away as I pulled the bag.

%!@&!!?!

Down the sidewalk came the clicking of a nice pair of shoes.

I struggled on with the bag, wanting desperately to be finished before the wearer of those shoes came around the alley corner. I jerked and pulled, trying not to exceed the acceptable tearing parameters of the plastic. I was up to three swears per second (sps), rapidly approaching four, when the bag finally lurched from the plastic can and I about fell backward, my left shoulder catching on the bar jutting from the side of the dumpster. I quickly jammed the can into the ever-closing door.

The behemoth lay before me yet, not yet slewn.

I looked over my shoulder and saw a nicely dressed woman watching me while trying not to.

Grabbing the bag, I figured I’d rely on the tried-and-true hip-throw swing method I always used to get the big bags up and over the edge of the dumpster.

%?!!@$%!!

Not gonna happen. Two attempts, and I was rounding the corner to 6 sps.

Eventually I got the bag into the dumpster, using every ounce of strength and swear word combination I knew of.

Back in the store, I suggested that the next time a customer annoyed us, perhaps we shouldn’t dispose of his or her body in the garbage. “It’s just too bulky and inconvenient,” I said. “I refuse.”

I ended the day at Barnes and Noble, copying recipes out of cookbooks I had no intention of buying.

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*It wasn’t, however, the largest load of s**t I’ve ever faced. That happened several years ago at a political rally.