The Snitch

It was another gorgeous Monday night in Cleveland. One that found me once again at the ballpark where we (finally!) rounded ourselves up a W. The couple seated next to me was from NYC, and had evacuated because of Irene. This just in...Cleveland is apparently a destination of choice? After the game I headed to the Ritz for a sans-alcohol drink at the bar, but the only thing there that resembled a celebrity was some sort of baseball executive/owner/manager. But he was old, ugly, and a far cry from Chris Evans.

Speaking of Cleveland, I received a letter from the city recently. Hand-addressed, it was clear that whatever was inside had been sent to me and me only. I quickly determined that nothing good could come from this letter. The city had to be hassling me about something, and my mind went back to the time a few years ago when I had been gently reminded to mow my lawn before it started resembling a jungle, not after. I've kept the grass under control this summer, so I figured this time they were probably going to hassle me about the weeds in the flower beds, because in what has been a too-full summer, pulling weeds got ousted from my to-do list pretty much every week. But it turns out the city doesn't care about my flower beds. At least not yet. Rather they were informing me that it has been brought to their attention that I'm not abiding by the trash collection code, which says that empty trash cans must be removed (aka put back in the garage) no later than 12 hours after the trash has been collected.

Needless to say, this letter infuriated me. Because I'm a responsible and slightly-compulsive adult, and so I'm usually pretty good about doing this. After all, I think trash cans lining the streets are just as ugly as the city thinks they are. But I'm also human, and a busy human at that, and yes, it's true, I realized when I pulled out of the driveway last Tuesday morning that I had forgotten to take in my trash can on Monday night. That there's a neighborhood snitch out there with apparently nothing better to do than report me for this is sort of pathetic. At any rate, I've been told that next time I'll be given a hefty fine, which seems excessive, especially since--aside from my flower beds and grass--I'm a model citizen. I've never even once required the presence of a SWAT team. The other thing that's frustrating here is I have no idea what time the trash is actually collected. Is it 8 AM? 10 AM? How do I know when my 12 hours are up? More importantly, how does the snitch know when my 12 hours are up?

Clearly I'm going to have to install a trash cam. Or at least write a letter back to the city. Dear Cleveland: Chillax. Love, TJN

.