I know these men. They have spent countless days working for themselves. Being their own bosses. Getting up early in the morning, before the sun comes out. Many sleep in a room full of other men. It's not a good nights sleep. People coughing, talking, snoring, and unfortunately, passing gas.
They get up. They get garbage bags. They dress for the weather. They get their tools. It could be a shopping cart or a homemade stick to grab the cans with.
Sometimes they work in pairs. Sometimes on their own.
They have routes. They have regular clients who leave out their recyclable cans and bottles. They pick through garbage bags and bins. They recognize bags they've prodded already. Marked with a slash.
These men see everything. They see the notes you've thrown in the trash. They see the supper you never finished. They find the stuff you no longer want. That old computer. Those old shoes. The cat litter. The rotten milk.
It's not a fabulous job. But someone can do it. Not has too, but can. Someone can do it.
And they do. Day in, day out.
A precious friend of mine took me along once. It was a wonderful morning. Being on that side with him. Being apart of his world.
