The wheelie bin.

A handy device.



It can also be a bone of contention, if you take the tellurian factor into account.

This is a post with both a happy ending and a twist of audacity, coupled with utter frustration.

A veritable feast of tellurian emotions.

Love that word! And since it’s the weekend theme, I’ll throw that into the mix as well πŸ˜‰



A few years ago all the houses in my suburb was furnished with a wheelie bin from the municipality.

Made a huge difference – dogs could not rip the bags apart anymore – now it’s just the human scavengers that can access the bins.

We let them – it’s a way of life here in Sunny South Africa.


To get back to the actual story.

Rubbish collection day is Friday.

I was home, so I heard them collect.

Go out a while later to bring in the bin – no bin.

Look up and down, went to a few spots that looked likely – not my bin.


Maybe whoever has it will either bring it back, or put it back outside.

Saturday, still no bin.

This morning though, after I dropped the kid off at work, come back, and pulled some weeds out of the pavement flower bed.


And there stood my bin!

Elated, I ran over there, happy to see it – having had visions of having to go and buy another one with my limited funds, or fashioning a kind of metal structure so that tellurian ( πŸ˜‰ )animals can’t reach it…

As I roll it to my driveway, I hear something clinking inside.

What on earth?

It should have been emptied on Friday.

Now, bear in mind, I heard partying last night. Quite a bit of it actually.

Turns out, whoever had my bin, had their party last night.

And used MY effing bin for their effing empties!!


Happy ending – got my bin back.

Audacity – using my bins for their bloody empties – I don’t even drink!

Frustration – firstly because the bin was missing. Secondly because whoever had it was just a serious shit!!


Talk about killing a few birds with one stone!



13 comments on “The wheelie bin.

  1. That is like weird, dude. Did you ask it, ‘Where have you bin?’ No, wheelie! πŸ™‚

    Probably, in their inebriation, they left some valuable clues to their identity, Did you not examine contents so that you could march over and dump them on their verge? That would have been poetry in motion.

    • Dude, that’s like, sooo cool man!!
      I wanted to do just that.
      But then I thought that the mess will lie on the pavement until I eventually pick it up myself in any case!
      Not the done thing to keep a clean country!

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