Once the truck has passed, the street is clean. The air smells of diesel and a job well done. You walk your dog and see the empty spaces where the bins once stood. It’s a tiny victory. You survived another week without a yellow sticker.
Here’s the secret: the London Borough of Ealing knows you. They know you procrastinate. They know you tried to sneak that broken chair into the bin at 11:59pm. And still, they pick it up. That’s love, folks. Love wrapped in a green plastic wheelie bin.
So next Monday night, when you’re out there doing the Tango, give your bin a pat. It’s your partner in the silent comedy of suburban life. And if the foxes get the caddy? Ah well. Tomorrow is another collection day.
