Irate Suburban Housewife

I had a moment. I became one of them. You know who I'm talking about. The irate, unreasonable, angry housewife who is actually right, but the matter she is right about seems like such a trivial matter, you can't understand why she is so worked up about it...

Well.

Garbage. I say. Garbage.

No, actually, let me say, debris.

Yard Debris.

That's right. Rabanco didn't pick up my yard debris. My lawn and garden waste. One blue 32 gallon container lidded, two 32-gallon properly labeled compost-acceptable brown paper refuse bags. Driver drove RIGHT BY MY HOUSE, picked up my neighbors, didn't pick up mine and didn't even leave a note (normal practice) or word as to why.

So yes, I called....

AFTER 25 MINUTES (I know most people are like, 25 minutes and you're complaining, we are soo trained to expect long hold times) I hung up and complained online.

Politely. Expressing my frustration.

I fully expect them to drive by in response to my email complaint, and leave a little yellow note saying why they can't take my trash and telling me to have a nice day.

I cannot believe I am so irate over Yard Debris, but WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH IT!!!!

ARGH.

...and do you know what McRed had the AUDACITY to say to me? Do you? Let me tell you....

"Ok. Fine."
"What?"
"Fine. All you ever do is complain. You never talk."

WHAT?

This from the man who sent several links and rants daily about the incompetence that is called our government. Yes I agree, but you can't say that is talking, and not complaining, unless you say that I was talking to him, and not complaining.

So now I'm talkin' to you, and you know what I say?

Garbage.