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The trashcan perspective: A story of one trashcan’s greatest adventure

<p>I started as a restaurant trashcan on The Corner, I’m basically a prince of a trashcan.</p>

I started as a restaurant trashcan on The Corner, I’m basically a prince of a trashcan.

I am a trashcan. I am a beautiful trashcan, always clean and composed, basically I’m better than you. I have a body made of a stiff metal mesh that allows one to see the bag inside and the shadow of its contents. I originated from a land called T-A-R-G-E-T. Ever heard of it? It is an exotic land, you probably couldn’t afford to visit there. Also, I have done a lot of traveling for a trashcan. This is the story of the grandest adventure of my garbage life. 

I started as a restaurant trashcan on The Corner, I’m basically a prince of a trashcan. My great journey began on a cold fall day. I could feel the bitter air of the street every time a customer opened the door to come into the restaurant. I sat behind the host’s stand as an easily hidden object where the hosts discarded their gum wrappers, empty cups, and other trash. I had been inside this restaurant for five years. Every night my contents are discarded and I start my new life as a clean trashcan, drably waiting to be once again filled with junk.

It’s emotionally draining — but you get used to it. 

Let me begin the tale of by far the most interesting journey someone like you will ever read. A boy frantically rushed into the restaurant. The host was off making out with her cook boyfriend so it was just I, up there, defending the scene. The boy walked around the host stand made of dark chipped wood and saw me. Now I know I’m a beautiful trashcan so what happened next didn’t surprise me. He looked around to see if anyone was watching, then stole me and ran outside. 

As the boy had plucked me up and carried me outside with him, he carried me in the direction of some girl, who sat on the curb of the road in a sloppy manner. She was wearing shorts that did little for the cold weather and also revealed more than I cared to see. I thought: “how dare I am seen with such a woman, I am basically royalty.” As the boy carried me to the girl, she puked in front of us. 

The boy then put me, the most beautiful trashcan you have ever seen, in front of her. The girl released a cascade of yellow chunky liquid into me. The scent of raspberry flavored vodka, pineapple juice, and ramen filled the air. The girl retched into me four more times before we went on my grandest journey. How disrespectful, I’m too good a trashcan for this. 

The boy held the girl's weight as he balanced her enough to push her forward closer to her home. We traveled down the sidewalk for some time, periodically stopping for the girl to release more sludge into my body. The boy swearing and laughing at this poor drunk every step of the way. Goodness, this was embarrassing, especially because my good friend the dumpster could see me in this embarrassing state. 

As we traveled, I begin to fill up. My white bag was heavy with the yellow waste inside of me, I could not hold any more vomit, but the boy did not notice. So, in one strong BLEHHH the girl released the remaining ramen into me, and my contents overflowed, leaking down my side and splashing up into the girl’s face and the boy’s arm. 


He dropped the girl as soon as the stomach bile, liquor and ramen hit his arm. And in her drunk state, the girl fell to the ground and dropped me as well. Public drunkenness like this is not cute, how could I, such an unfortunate trashcan be forced to associate with these people. 

We reset the previous formation of the boy carrying the girl along. The boy dumped whatever was left in my bag into a bush and then we continued on. So as we continued, every time the girl puked (which at this point was more of a dry heave) a small trail of puke flowed down my bag onto the girls red manicured fingers and onto the sidewalk below. Some leaked onto the boy's shoes. How embarrassing. Public drunkenness is not cute. 

We continued for a while more. At this point, I was irrelevant as the girl stopped puking but was burping into me. Her drunkenness has caused her to be almost asleep as we moved across the city. How embarrassing all of these people were seeing me associate with these plebeians. I am far better than this, I’m a regal trashcan. We finally ended up in this home where the girl was ushered into a bathroom by the boy, and taken care of. That is how I started my life as a desk trashcan. 

This grand journey is one not many college students consider when inebriated. The next time you use a trash can for your drunken journey’s, think of the trashcan’s perspective.

Elisha Rypkema is a Humor Columnist for The Cavalier Daily. He can be reached at