Sketches In Memorandum | "The Parking Lot"

They say one man's trash is another man's treasure; I find this statement to be highly situational. I've been punching the clock at my local Chick-fil-A since the store opened over a year ago, lovingly and thoroughly maintaining the kitchen, dining room, and parking lot as is required of me, and in this time I've come to learn some things.

The first is that no matter how much respect people have for an establishment or location, without fail, they will still miss the trash cans. C'est la vie, I suppose. The difference is whether or not said establishment sends someone out to clean up the litter, and even though it's messy, I'm still proud to be the person who makes sure one man's trash is removed from another man's treasure.

The second is that the human species is very diverse and interesting. Anyone could have told me this, of course, but it's only when you really get out there and see people that you come to understand this. I realize a quick-service restaurant off Interstate 75 does not sound as big a melting pot as, say, New York City or a gas station during the witching hours, but I still remember very clearly several interesting people I wouldn't have seen anywhere else:

• I saw a man with omega-shaped brands on his arms instead of tattoos.
• I saw some elves on their way to a convention.
• I saw the Weapons of Mass Intoxication, a quartet of drinking friends with matching jerseys. (Why they decided to water themselves at the most conservative, southern baptist Christian restaurant in town is beyond me. Maybe they were just tired of buffalo wings.)
• I saw a couple in the drive-thru arguing in their car. The man suddenly dove beneath the dashboard, and emerged with a single off-white croc in his hand, and they immediately stopped fighting.
• I saw a parade of half-dressed Floridian college students fleeing a hurricane. Several of them wore shirts that made it look as though they were doing otherwise.
• I saw a lady with a three-legged dog. I've gotten to pet a lot of dogs while sweeping the parking lot, but this one, I regret to inform you, passed me by.
• I saw a police chase. A man sprinted right past me while I was wheeling the trash to the dumpster and hopped a fence, then a few cops came bringing up the rear not long afterward, and about ten minutes later they caught him.

The third is that you can learn all kinds of things about people by picking up what they throw away, like what they value and don't, and what they find appropriate to leave lying around in a public parking lot. In the past year alone, I have picked up:

• A wig, a là Jack Sparrow.
• Four diapers, one of them wet and falling apart.
• A run-over iPhone.
• An empty green wine bottle with a cork.
• An entire Popeye's chicken lunch special underneath someone's car, partially run-over.
• A bottle of what I hope was apple juice but probably wasn't.
• A recyclable cardboard water carton. (Unfortunately, I couldn't recycle it.)
• A lot of broken glass.
• Enough cigarette butts to circle the Earth once.
• A bunch of ants that died welded by summer heat to a piece of red hard candy.
• A $2 bill.

Yes, people are very interesting indeed, and while I do not treasure their trash, I do treasure the stories their trash has given me.