Dumpster Diva

We have quite a few things to learn about living in an over 55 community. This morning was one for the history books. We woke up feeling so “at home” in our new place, even though we do not get our furniture until the 24th. But we have grown accustomed to our borrowed lawn chairs and our air mattress which is, truth be told, not so bad. We keep telling ourselves as long as we are able to actually get up off the air mattress, it means that we are still spry young things that are still up for adventure. We haven’t once had to bounce up to get off, or even rock back and forth to get a jump on standing up from the mattress.
Last evening we went out for our first social. Four couples and ourselves had dinner at one of the couples homes and then went to listen to a band play oldies, following by standing outside during intermission at the Moustache Pretzzel food truck in 108 degrees to get a hot pretzel. Nothing is better in 108 degree weather than a eating a hot pretzel. But, like Randy says, the tickets were a gift so he told me I cannot complain. It was fun seeing old timers and young timers (such as ourselves) trying to shake, rattle and roll, while watching parts of your body take longer to stop shaking and rattling or rolling than other parts. But, we saw a couple who we had met at Starbucks a couple of weeks ago, out on the dance floor. Felt good to see some people that we already knew. We ended up exchanging numbers so we could get in touch when we got settled.

That takes us to this morning. We hurriedly woke up at 5:45 to shower and get dressed as workers were coming over at 7 to take a soaking tub out of the master bath. So I showered, used the curling iron, put my makeup on, so the men would not get freaked out by my “natural beauty”. Since we were ready in plenty of time, Mr. I Have A Great Idea, says, “let’s take the golf cart and load up some of this bulky trash the previous owners left in the storage shed and haul it back to the bulk trash area”. Well, you don’t have to ask me twice to go riding on the golf cart, (in case you missed the announcement, the cart’s name is Wally). So feeling so prim and proper with my earrings on and my makeup freshly applied, (after all, you do not want to get caught out without earrings, what would my little southern Junior Leaguers say) we load up the back of the cart not and head over to the bulk trash area. For some reason, I turned around before walking out the door (actually I do know the reason; I never, never leave home without my phone because yes, my name is Trudy and I am a phone addict). when we get there the sliding door to the trash area is open as a gentleman is just leaving so we figure that maybe the door is open during the day. So we pull Wally into the trash area and proceed to unload boxes of trash. As we are climbing up the inclined walkway up to the top to drop over the last of the boxes, we hear a sound and look over. The gate door has closed and we are now closed in the bulk trash area behind walls that are about 10′ tall. We just look at each other and I said, “well, at least when we are rescued, I will have earrings on.” We see a security pad over to the side and realize that there must be a code to open the big doors. But, we neither knew what code it might be. Randy said, I don’t have my phone to call anyone, I guess we just sit here and wait until someone comes and opens it so we can get out. In my mind, I have already begun to plan an escape. I was already thinking that if he could help me get on top of the golf cart, I could possibly hoist myself up on top of the 10′ wall and yell at a passerby who has lived here longer than 3 days, who would know the code to let us out. Before I began my ascent to the top of the golf cart, with makeup already melting and running in my eyes, I looked over and saw that I had indeed brought my phone. We called our security guard and told him that we were stuck in the bulk trash area and couldn’t get out. After he quit his snickering, he quickly told me the code to push and we drove ourselves out. By the time we drove back up to our house, I had no make up on to speak of, my hair looked like I had slept in it and we both, well, let’s just say that we have smelled better.
Lesson learned: I might leave home without my American Express card, but I will never, no never,leave home without my phone or my earrings. One never knows when I might need to be rescued and if I am ever on TV I want to have my earrings on.

2 thoughts on “Dumpster Diva

    • I am southern. From Dallas but just moved to AZ to be close to our kids that live here!! If you get a chance there is a book on Amazon called Princess on the Porch in Kindle edition. Has a lot of my stories and recipes.

      Liked by 1 person

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