The two most recent entries in Nagle’s sanitation worker diary takes us to the nitty-grity of garbage pick up. On Wednesday’ log , Nagle talks about learning to drive the “cut-downs” (i.e., the 30-ton, 30-foot dump trucks), and it appears she enjoyed it.
I hunched my shoulders forward, snugged my hat a little lower, then put myself and my instructor, Pat O’Brien, in motion. After he taught me some basics, I was nailing tight turns on narrow streets, rolling effortlessly along highways and through toll plazas, and backing up without trouble. I felt invincible—not much out there was bigger than I was.
Nagle continues:
“F___in’ A. This is f___in’ fantastic.” I don’t indulge my inner potty-mouthed broad very often, and O’Brien was taken aback, but he soon adjusted, for which I was grateful.
By Thursday Nagle is actually on the job driving the cut-down through the streets of New York. Nagle describes some of the less desirable aspects of the job.
The stench is the cloying, frowsy odor of an over-fecund culture. We produce and consume in vast quantities and at great speed, and the refuse has to go somewhere. No matter the individual components, when it’s all mashed together, trash generates a signature smell.
Motorists have no pity for garbage trucks and will do anything to avoid falling in behind one; during OJT, I often cut off a driver in the course of switching lanes. The driver always responded with enthusiastic gestures of ire.
The diary is published by Slate.com