January 13, 2010
Ever since I was little, I wanted to be a trash man. I know what you’re thinking; who wants to be a trash man? There is nothing negative about being a trash man. Yes you might go home smelling and feeling a little dirty, but that’s it. I make a decent salary doing easy work, and I come home knowing I helped my community. I don’t need to buy much due to the fact that I find it for free in the junkyard. I pick up what I feel could be useful and then load it in my truck and take it home. This is how I got my nickname. Bill is what my parents named me as a child, but Scooper is what everyone at the dump called me seeing as all I did was scoop up thrown away valuables from the dump. The junkyard might look like a lot of junk stacked together, but to me there are millions of hidden treasures waiting to be discovered.

As the alarm rang I shot up out of bed. Brushed my teeth, combed my hair, got dressed and put on my work boots. I kissed my lovely sleeping wife goodbye, took a sip of my coffee, and got in my truck and headed towards work. When I arrived I punched in my card, said hi to my friends Carl and Sam, and started up the garbage truck. Every day I have the same routine where I get in the garbage truck, drive up through every street within a 3 mile radius of the junkyard, pull up to every house and dump the blue recycling bin into the truck. My wife tells me to find another job, and to make something out of myself. I just tell her off because I love what I do. After I dump maybe 150 -200 blue bins into the truck , I drive the 3 miles back to the junkyard and dump it out of the truck. I park the garbage truck and return the keys to the office.
My favorite part of the day is searching around the dump for things that I could take home. I find a deck of cards, old computer parts, a broken ukulele, and some old running shoes. I took the cards and put them in my pocket to take home with me. Picked up a few of the computer pieces and threw them out of the way. Took the ukulele wiped off the dust, and threw it in the truck. Then I picked up a torn up suitcase to throw it to the side, but noticed it was unusually heavy. I was fascinated by how something so small can weight so much. And was eager to get this baby open. I lifted the suitcase and tried to open it up but the latch was too strong. I took a broken hammer that I found lying next to me and smashed the medal against the lock to try to open it, but the metal tip of the hammer was to frail to open it. I then took an old golf club that was in the passenger seat of my car and swung it striking the lock in its center. It broke and opened revealing stacks of 100-dollar bills all nicely lined up. Afraid anyone would see me, I closed it and threw it on the passenger seat and rushed home.
As I pulled up to the driveway, I could smell the chicken my wife was cooking from inside the car. I rushed inside.
“ Where were you, I have been waiting forever. Where you going through the trash again? You smell awful go take a shower and get ready for dinner”, said my wife.
“ No time for dinner”, I said as I pulled the briefcase up to the table, and opened it.
“ Where did you find that”, said my wife.
“ Trash”, I said.
“That’s a lot of cash”, she said with big smile on her face.
“I told you there was treasure”, I said with an even larger smile.

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