Landfill

The six of us piled out of my Corolla. Our supervisor seemed to materialize out of the chemical dust that the trucks would kick up as they funneled down. His greeting was without formality as he handed each of us cheap dust masks. He was a large man who spoke in a high pitched shriek, which was good because it cut through the roaring, toxic wind. The orders he gave were simple enough, we were to chase down the plastic grocery bags that swirled aplenty about the great hole. Once these "critters" were caught, we were to stuff them into a larger plastic bag. Once this bag was full it was to be buried deeper into the hole. Was it catch 22? Yes. Was it steady work? Also, yes.

Two of my colleagues were taken aside. They were to separate the municipal waste from recyclable to non-recyclable. Then the non-recyclable waste was to be separated into hazardous waste, landfill waste or incinerator waste. In other words, they got promoted. Poontar kicked up yet more dust. He was passed up for a couple of rookies.

About three hours in I was starting to fade. The landfill was becoming a Saharan dust storm. I was able to make out a shape in the distance. As I got closer I shouted above the din "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to leave, if you guys need a ride back......" The figure came closer, it was Poontar, "that's okay, we all need the work. We usually get a ride back to the agency from one of the truck drivers." He waved goodbye to me as he walked away and disappeared into the chemical clouds, the plastic bags swirling above him like vultures. I guess some of us need the work more than others.