Angry Amy and the Rotten Bin Thief


I have a new neighbour. The previous one moved out about a month ago. I spoke to him once, otherwise I never really saw or heard from him. The perfect kind of neighbour, in my opinion. But then he moved out, the house went up for lease and then since the weekend I’ve had a new neighbour next door. She has been there a week, I’ve seen her twice, never spoken to her and already I’m having issues with her.

Let me explain why. Today, when I went to work, my bins were in their normal spot out the front of my house. When I returned on my lunch break, they were still there. When I got home after work, the recycle bin from next door, which had previously been on the road outside that house, was now on my front yard, next to the letter box. At first, I thought someone had mistakenly put it there, thinking it was mine. But then I noticed that only one bin was in front of my house. Either someone had moved my bin down to the letterbox, or it had been replaced.

Suffice to say, when I opened the lid, the bin in my yard was full to the brim…with recycling that wasn’t mine. On top was a paper bank statement, addressed to a Georgia Sawyer of 103. Not surprisingly, this recycling belonged to my new neighbour. My suspicions were confirmed. The inconsiderate, assuming, intolerably rude woman had gone freely on to my property, taken my bin and replaced it with her full one. Now I realise this may seem like a petty thing to get angry about, but it’s the principle of the thing. You don’t just casually stroll into someone else’s yard without permission or invitation. And you especially don’t steal from them. The fact that it was a council owned bin, and that she exchanged rather than outright stole is not the point. It’s the brazen cheek of the woman that I find offensive.

I’ve been in the house seven months, and I am the only house on my side of the street without a proper garage, or a fence. But up until today, I have never had cause to be concerned by that. And now I don’t know how to tackle it. I have half a mind to go over there tomorrow and demand my bin back, or tell her I will be dumping my recycling in her (my) bin for the next two weeks, until they get emptied again. Because there is certainly no room to empty my own rubbish in her overstuffed bin. Maybe leave a friendly note telling her to stay the fuck away from my house. Or perhaps I will just be really passive aggressive and play the heaviest music I have on full noise, with the windows open on the direction of her house. You know, mess with the bull and get the (metal) horns kind of deal.

Even now, hours after I noticed, I’m still stewing on it. I was absolutely livid when I got home, now it’s just a slow simmering anger. I am going to run away from all rotten bin stealing civilisation and become a recluse. Like I’ve said before, shotgun, typewriter, dog, solitude. Fuck the neighbours, I quit.

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