It rained today here is SoCal. Which is, really, a rare event. Man I love the rain. Well. Mostly. Today, for five minutes, I was not even CLOSE to loving it. Let me tell you why.
So as you all know, I’m working at a Carls Jr, And one of my afternoon duties is to take out the trash to the dumpster in the car park. This dumpster, well there is two, actually, is pretty massively big. And high. And surrounded by brick walls which make a box. You get in via a gate.
Anyway, the point is, its massive and tall. And Gated.
Before I heading out, I point out to my manger that its raining. He says its “only light” and that ill be back in 2 mins anyway.
FAMOUS. LAST. WORDS.
The ” only light” rained turned to pouring pretty much AS SOON as I made it to the dumpster. I speedily took my first trash bin, unlocked the gate and went inside to heave it over into the dumpster. The rain got heavier. And the wind picked up. And blew. And locked the gate shut. Behind me. Swell.
I tried to squeeze my hand in to lift the latch, but couldn’t fit. I tried to shake it, it wouldn’t budge. I tried to slide it. Nope. Nothing.
Its then that I decided to climb the brick wall and get on top of the dumpster, hoping some poor soul would see me and rescue this *drenched* damsel in distress.
So here I am, covered in trash juices, standing on top of the dumpster, absolutely soaking wet, hollering for help.
I look over at the gas station, and see a man laughing. I yell out to a car passing by, who appears not to see me.
So. I wait for some one to come through our drive through. SURELY they would look up, straight ahead, and see me. In this bright red shirt.
Finally, after what feels like a age, a woman comes. I jump up. Arms flying everywhere, yelling and pointing. After a while, she gets my message. And, judging by my stellar lip reading skills, says something along the lines of ” I think one of your employees is stuck on top of the dumpster”. My manager pokes his head out the window. And laughs.
Moments later I see my co worker come out of the back door. He too looks up at me, this saturated small red blob on top of the trash. And laughs, probably for a full minute, before coming and unlocking the gate.
I scrabbled down, slipped and fell on my butt, which then drenched my pants further, and finally made it down and out.
He looks at me, helps me with the rest of the trash, and then says.
“You know there is a second unlocked gate on the side”.
New Little *Dumpster* Wife