In our little enclave we have four cottages. And three lidded wheelie bins and one without a lid. A year or so back we got a replacement for the lidless one. When I say we, I mean me. I don't mean the occupants of the other cottages, but me, complete with a job number and everything.
One of the lidded ones has been nicked. Beginning of February. So we rang up to get a job number and were told that it would be up to seven days before an Inspector checked our wheelie-binlessness. And when we got a new one would depend on whether they had them in stock. I remember the day precisely because it was my birthday.
The next bin day Jimmy found a wheelie bin at the end of the drive and we claimed it as ours. Weeks went by and we bumped into our neighbour, moaning her lack of wheelie bin. We mentioned that we had contacted Environmental Services and it was quite clear that she believed that we had stolen her wheelie bin, even though we were taking the view that it was First Come First Served. It was equally valid to aver she had nicked ours.
One Friday evening we were heading out at 7pm. We got to the bottom of the path, and Jimmy realised he'd left his Oyster Card indoors so went to get it, banging the door behind him as he left the house. In the mean time I was surveying our exit and realising that we were stuck, blocked into our front garden by the thoughtless parking of a car. There was insufficient room to allow a human being to pass either side.
A man came out of Our Neighbour's House and said "Oh, I heard you leave the house, you'll be wanting to get out." He was under the impression we wanted to go out by car, but I said, no, we just want to walk out. He was almost apologetic. Actually I lie, he was not apologetic but giggly and decided that he would move the car. With considerable difficulty - Jimmy had to use hand signals to assist him reverse up the neighbour's drive. Why he couldn't have parked there originally, I don't know.
I expressed my anger, saying that if it had been any other night I would have been coming in and would not have been able to get past, either to my own house, or to bang randomly on the doors of my neighbours to find out whose car it was. He still didn't apologise, so I called him stupid or thoughtless or some such, suggesting vociferously (but no swear words) that he should have realised that no one could get through, let alone anyone with a pram or luggage or in a wheelchair.
About three weeks ago the neighbours renting next door did a midnight flit and the house has been unoccupied. Every Monday morning a wheelie bin is placed on their driveway, depriving us of one. Every Monday afternoon we salvage a wheelie bin from the unoccupied house.
Jimmy reckons our neighbour is deliberately taking one to the unoccupied house to spite us, after we "stole" hers and were rude to her moronic visitor. I suggest that it might be the binmen, but there is no logic in constantly returning a wheelie bin to a house that doesn't start off with one, and has no rubbish bags, and still has the Phone Book, delivered last week, sitting on the path.
The simple thing would be to paint our house number and erotic pictures of the anti-christ onto the bin, but I always remember when it's raining or dark, and forget when it's painting weather.
It's so bloody suburban. If I wanted a neighbourhood dispute I would have moved to suburbia.
