“A relative living in a mobile home passed away. I was the closest, so it fell to me to clear out the home for sale.
The company that runs the mobile home park has a lot of rules. First annoying rule: No Estate Sales Allowed. So instead of one simple phone call, I had to touch everything in the home. Donations, Craigslist, FreeCycle, and the shared dumpster were my only tools to empty a stuffed two-bedroom mobile home. Over the weekends, I cleared it out, except for the garage.
Finally cleared out enough to list the home for sale. The Realtor said okay to work on the garage while the home was on the market. The garage wasn’t too bad – one run to the hazardous waste collection place for paint and half-empty bug spray cans. The last thing to go were six large, empty plastic storage bins, eight rusted folding chairs, and two rusted card tables.
I forgot to mention the mobile home was 30 minutes away from where I live.
So one Sunday night, I was close to the home and went to clear out the garage by putting the stuff in the dumpster. The shared dumpster is two blocks away, so I loaded up the car and drove the stuff to the dumpster. The dumpster was going to get picked up the next morning and was full. The lids were not closed. The dumpster has two plastic lids that are hinged on the back of the dumpster.
I crammed the chairs, table, and bins into the already full dumpster, pushing the lids open further. A couple of other people came to drop off garbage while I was cramming chairs in the back. Then I drove home.
I’m 5 minutes away when the park manager called to tell me I had to take the stuff out of the dumpster because the lid didn’t close. Snitches! I immediately agreed to come back and explained that the lid already wasn’t closing before I added the stuff. That didn’t matter. Reminded me of that Seinfeld episode, anyway.
I went back and pulled the chairs, bins, and tables from the dumpster. The rest of the trash was bagged, so the stuff I pulled out was relatively clean. I went back the next day and threw the stuff back in the dumpster. I resisted the urge to open the chairs to take up space. So much resisting!
A week later, I got a check for $1.54 from the park cause I overpaid the space rent. The home is owned by a person, the space the home sits on is “rented” from the park. I didn’t know the exact amount of rent, so I rounded up to the nearest ten dollars. The check was the difference. The check was sent in the mail, which cost $0.55, heh! I shredded the check, so for the next six months, they are going to have to deal with a non-cashed check! Ha! REVENGE! I held my raised fist as the shredder chewed up their special hologrammed check! I think I might make a special trip to throw the shredded check back into the dumpster!”
