Ed was pushing his Garbage Bin around the Company Cafeteria. On his bin it said "Sanitronics" He was also wearing a white name tag with his name on it. On his tag it said Ed.
Every day he would collect garbage for the Company Cafeteria. Every day he would sing his Garbage Collection Song. It went like this:
"Pickin' up the Garbage,
Pickin' up the Garbage,
Pickin' up the Garbage,
All day long."
The chorus went like this:
"Garbage, Garbage, Garbage,
Garbage, Garbage, Garbage,
Garbage, Garbage, Garbage,
All day long."
So one day Ed was pushing his bin around that said Sanitronics on it. He was constantly on the lookout for potential garbage, and he saw a man in the corner who was about to generate some. The man had an out-of-date handlebar moustache, a large pot belly, and a greasy pastrami sandwich. Ed and his Garbage Bin hovered nearby.
"I hate my sandwich," erupted the man suddenly.
"Garbage, Garbage, Garbage," sang Ed under his breath.
"What?" asked the man with the out-of-date handlebar moustache to Ed.
"I said, why donÕt you throw it away, then?" asked Ed helpfully, if a bit untruthfully.
"Well," said the man, "The way I see it, it would be a gigantic waste of a greasy pastrami sandwich. I donÕt know what to do."
"The way I see it," said Ed helpfully, "You have two alternatives. Either you eat it or you throw it away."
"It would be such a gigantic waste," said the man with the out-of-date handlebar moustache. "IÕve had this sandwich before me for two weeks and I still donÕt know what to do. I didnÕt even order a sandwich, they just gave it to me."
"Well, why did they give it to you?" asked Ed inquisitively.
"I think they thought I was hungry," said the man with the out-of-date handlebar moustache.
"All day long," sang Ed under his breath.
"What?" asked the man with the out-of-date handlebar moustache inquisitively.
"Why donÕt you throw it on the floor?" suggested Ed. "Then there would be no way you would ever eat something that fell on the floor, so you would have to throw it away."
"HMMMMMMM," said the man with the out-of-date handlebar moustache. "ThatÕs a good idea."
Hesitantly, the man with the out-of-date handlebar moustache dropped the greasy pastrami sandwich on the floor. There, he said triumphantly. "Finally," he continued triumphantly, "Got rid of that!"
Ed took his handy garbage dustpan and swept up the sandwich. "Garbage, Garbage, Garbage," he sang under his breath.
"What?" asked the man with the out-of-date handlebar moustache inquisitively.
Just then, a woman with blue-gray hair and blue gray polyester slacks carrying a cafeteria style diet plate ran up to the man with the out-of-date handlebar moustache. Ed was constantly on the look-out for potential garbage, and this woman looked like she was about to generate some. Ed and his garbage bin hovered nearby.
"I hate this diet plate," she exclaimed, throwing a cafeteria style diet plate on the table.
"All day long," sang Ed under his breath.
"What?" asked the man with the out-of-date handlebar moustache inquisitively.
"I said, I hate this diet plate," said the woman with blue-gray hair and matching blue-gray polyester slacks repetitively.
"Please elaborate," said Ed poetically.
"IÕve been looking at the same diet plate for about two weeks. The combination of cottage cheese, sliced canned peaches, and maracino cherries makes me want to throw up." she said descriptively, if frantically.
"Are you sure it was O.K. for me to throw away my greasy pastrami sandwich?" queried the man with the out-of-date handlebar moustache.
"It had fallen on the floor," said Ed factually. "It had to be thrown away."
"IÕm not even on a diet," said the woman with blue-gray hair and matching polyester slacks factually. "They just gave this to me."
"Garbage, Garbage, Garbage," sang Ed under his breath.
"What?" asked the woman with blue-gray hair and polyester slacks inquisitively.
"I said, why did they give you a diet plate if you didnÕt ask for one?"inquired Ed.
"I think they thought I was on a diet," said the woman with the blue gray hair and matching polyester slacks. "But IÕve been looking at this diet plate for two weeks now, and itÕs making me sick."
"Why donÕt you pour a lot of sugar on it," suggested Ed helpfully. "Then it wouldnÕt be a diet plate anymore, and you could take it back and complain."
"Or you could throw it away," said the man with the out-of-date handlebar moustache helpfully.
"HMMMMMM," said the woman with the blue-gray hair and matching polyester slacks. "ThatÕs a good idea. IÕll go get some sugar packets," she continued, leaving her diet plate on the table.
"Garbage, Garbage, Garbage," sang Ed under his breath
"What?" said the man with the out-of-date moustache inquisitively.
Just then, a jittery thin man with a nervous twitch carrying a cup of coffee ran up to the table. Ed was constantly on the lookout for potential garbage, and this man looked as though he was about to generate some. Ed and his Garbage Bin hovered nearby.
"I detest coffee," exclaimed the thin jittery man with the nervous twitch, spilling the contents of his cup nervously on the diet plate. The woman with the blue-gray hair and matching polyester pants had returned with a pile of sugar packets. She looked on with some surprise.
"Why donÕt you throw it on this diet plate here?" suggested Ed belatedly. "No one would expect you to drink it then."
"Or you could throw it on the floor," said the man with the out-of-date handlebar moustache.
"I think IÕll return this and complain," said the woman with the blue gray hair and matching polyester pants, getting up with the ruined diet plate and leaving.
"I had that same cup of coffee for two weeks," said the thin jittery man with the nervous twitch. "I donÕt even drink coffee. They just gave it to me."
"Why did they give you a cup of coffee if you didnÕt ask for one," asked Ed inquisitively.
"I think they thought I needed to wake up and smell it," said the thin jittery man with the nervous twitch. "but IÕm allergic to coffee."
"HMMMMM," said the man with the out-of-date handlebar moustache. "Maybe you just should have thrown it in the trash."
"Garbage, Garbage, Garbage," sang Ed under his breath.
"What?" asked the thin jittery man with the nervous twitch.
Just then, a red-faced man with a barrel of highly toxic medical waste sidled up to Ed.
"Hey buddy," he said. "Are you the garbage collector around here?"
"I am the Sanitation Engineer, and my name is Ed," said Ed factually.
"Do you have a place where I could put this highly toxic medical waste?" the man asked surreptitiously.
"Throw it on the floor," said the man with the out-of-date handlebar moustache helpfully. "Or you could put sugar on it first and then put it on the floor."
The red-faced man with the barrel of highly toxic medical waste shook his head. "I donÕt think so, buddy," he said. Then he turned back to Ed. "How about, fella," he said.
"Why donÕt you put it in my Garbage Bin," said Ed helpfully. "Then it would leak all over and everyone would blame me."
"HMMMMMM," said the redfaced man with the barrel of highly toxic medical waste, "Good idea." He took the cup off the barrel and started pouring some evil looking green liquid into the Garbage Bin.
"Is that a good idea?" asked the thin jittery man with the nervous twitch.
"Not really," said Ed factually. He turned back to the red-faced man with the barrel of highly toxic medical waste. "Why donÕt you stir it around a little?" he said. "Then everyone would think it was garbage and not toxic medical waste."
"Good idea," said the redfaced man. He took a stick out of his jacket and stared stirring it around . With a bubble and a hiss, the liquid within leaked through the Garbage Bin. It created a big hole in the floor, and the redfaced man and the Garbage Bin fell through it, not to be seen again.
"Well, my pastrami sandwich is gone for good," said the man with the out-of-date moustache with some satisfaction. He turned and skipped out of the Company Cafeteria. The thin jittery man twitched nervously nearby, and Ed went to get another Garbage Bin.
© sarah smiley 1993