So I've been doing some housecleansing (that's not a typo), meaning I'm banishing all the unneeded clutter from my existence. One less thing I need taking up room is my old set of weights and bench. Well, I was going to put it on Craigslist for $20.00 or so, then I realized that many of the weights and all the bars are made of steel, and I could get at least as much money recycling them at a scrap yard without the hassle of strangers knocking on my door.
Ever been to a scrap yard? Picture all the controlled chaos of an ant colony: forklifts and trucks zooming in and out of spaces they could never have fit in, missing each other by mere inches and never slowing down. People scurrying back and forth carrying handfuls of refuse from one area to another. Giant - GIANT heaps of scrap metal being constantly shifted and shaped by even larger machines. There are very few signs telling you what goes where, yet just like ants, workers and customers alike know where to go and what to do with no visible instruction. They just... know. So I'm in line waiting for the car ahead of me to move so I can ask the hardhat guy what I'm supposed to be doing when. a different guy walked toward me (great, I'll ask him). We made eye contact (hi, can you tell me-), then he kept walking, right past me, stood between two tractors, and took a leak. I have a feeling that on another day, it could have been worse.
Eventually hardhat guy #1 told me to back my car up until they're done unloading a truck, then park in its place when it leaves. Ten minutes later I'm finally directed to park my car. OK, now what? Another customer brought me a cart (very cool of him) and told me to take my stuff over to a building where they'll process it. Aside from standing for another ten minutes in a hot sweaty warehouse, it ran fairly smooth from there. A guy that could have been a fourth member of ZZ Top weighed my stuff and gave me a receipt to take to the cashier (they actually have a sign for that!). She processed my receipt and gave me another receipt with a bar code on it, which I took to an ATM-like machine to finally get my money. My reward for 45 minutes of my time: $10.00. About what I make at my day job, except with more grime and frustration.
