When I was little my school had a dumpster rental Richmond account, with two big blue dumpsters in a corner of the playground. Most adults don’t notice dumpsters, don’t want to pay attention to them. They’re the kind of thing that belongs in a back alley, a fixture best taken for granted and never smelled. Trash in general is the kind of thing you don’t really wan to pay attention to.
And that’s the kind of thing that most of the other kids thought too. Which made it empty real estate. Prime, empty, real estate. They were actually left at angles to the building with a yard or two space on every side. Which meant we could hide and duck around back there to our heart’s content. And when the teachers told us to stay away from there that first time… that was just icing on the cake. And anyway in winter they hardly smell at all unless someone dares you put your head in.
Which we did.
It seams like such a humble memory, but I had a lot of fun running around by those big blue metal cans, hiding for everyone or using their choke points as defenses for tag or our little pretend wars. After all, who would want to play basketball or soccer, or flirt with the girls (cooties after all) or trade pokemon cards (actually we did that there too), or get picked last for red rover, when we could grab handfuls of stones and make the metal sound off like gunshots in the old west?
Early recollections of the playground dumpster
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