Release Your Inner Moron

.....

The Ambrosia Software, Inc. office I work at is in downtown Rochester,
in a fairly sketchy part of town.  Sure, they've been putting up street
lights and pretty brick sidewalks, but you still walk quickly to your
car, and look nervously about if you happen to be working late at night.

Tonight happened to be just such a night.  I stayed late to take care of
some backlogged work, and also to take care of my weekly cleaning chore
(we all pitch in here, more or less), which happened to be taking the
trash out.

No big deal, I gathered up all of the full trash bags, and lugged them
down to the freight elevator.  Look, ma! That working out has let me
carry 14 full trash bags at once!  Of course, I still had to return to
get a stack of boxes that were too unwieldy to carry even for those of
us with delusions of grandeur.

As I brought the boxes to the large loading bay, I realized I needed to
use my security card before I could raise the metal sliding door that
lead to the huge metal trash bin outside.  No problem; I'll balance the
boxes in one hand, grab my wallet with the other, pull the security card
out, slide it through the slot, and hit the button! Oh yeah, how slick
am I?

Touching down lightly onto reality, I got back to the task at hand, and
chucked the boxes into the 12' high dumpster, casually turned and two a
few steps back towards the other garbage I had to throw out and...
FROZE.

I'm sure we've all experienced this sensation: when "OH SHIT!!" echoes
throughout your mind, your body freezes like a deer caught in
headlights, and you stand there for a moment, marveling at your own
stupidity.

"Oh my god, did I just throw my wallet into that huge, stinking, filthy
trash bin?"  Look, ma!  That working out has made me incredibly stupid!

I immediately looked around at the top of the bin, but it was dark, I
couldn't see much of anything -- so I jumped into the bin, and rummaged
around in vain for a bit.  It was just a bit too dark.  Hell.

I pulled myself out of the bin, ran to my car, and sped home to get a
flashlight to aid me in recovering my wallet and perhaps a shred of my
dignity.  I ran inside, the cats were typically helpful: all I got was a
quizzical look and a "Meow?" or two.  I rummaged around for a
flashlight, but I couldn't find one!  Argh!

Aha -- I'll use my trusty scuba diving light -- that sucker is like a
spotlight.  I grab it, run out the door, and as I hear the door shut, my
paranoia-induced frenzy causes me to pat my pocket.

OH NO!  No keys!  I tug on the door... it's locked up tight as a drum. 
Good GOD, could I possibly be this dumb? My wallet is in a dumpster
because I threw it in there, I smell like rancid garbage, and I've just
locked myself out of my apartment in the middle of the night.  Lovely.

My sanity returned as I realized that I actually DID still have my keys,
I'd merely put them in my coat pocket. OK, Andrew, let's not lose our
head completely, eh?

So I sped back to the office, and leapt into the dumpster once more,
with renewed vigor.  I began tossing every box and bag of garbage out of
the dumpster, as I slushed around in the filth that accumulated at the
bottom, looking rather like some kind of rancid soup du jour.

If you've ever seen the infamous "Trash Compactor" scene from the
original Star Wars movie, you have a pretty good picture of what it
looked like.  Here I am, banging around inside a wretched trash bin late
at night, rummaging around like a madman, tossing bags and boxes around
as I sloshed from one corner to another, wielding a scuba diving light,
and I'm sure a rather crazed expression.

At first I was worried that some thug would come along and try to rob me
-- then I realized he'd have to get in the dumpster and help me search
first, and I figured it was rather unlikely anyone would want to do
that, especially if they were in a rush to get another rock of crack. 
Next up was being worried that a policeman would take exception to my
late night scavenging endeavor, but thankfully the police were
mercifully absent (perhaps having a Krispy Kreme donut and a coffee?).

I threw every big piece of trash I could find outside of the dumpster --
I imagine the scene was probably quite comical, random boxes and bags
being thrown out of the top of a dumpster late at night, with random
bangings, splashes, and curses eminating from within.  No luck.  Damn --
then another thought occurred to me -- perhaps I'd dropped the wallet
inside the building somewhere, before I threw it?

Well, I'd feel pretty dumb if it was actually never in the dumpster to
begin with -- "ha ha, you just spent 30 minutes rummaging around in a
stench-laden garbage for no reason!"  I leapt out of the dumpster, went
inside, searched around, but to no avail.  My wallet was definitely in
that dumpster somewhere.  With a sigh, I jumped back into mosh pit of
dejected (and stinky) possessions.

After a good 20 minutes of searching, I finally found it right next to
some week old chicken wings, an exploded toner cartridge, and under a
rather mangled Wegman's Food Shopper coupon newsletter.  UGH.

So, anyway, if you ever feel bad when you do something stupid, I want
you to remember this story.  You'll feel better about yourself.

 .....

Andrew Welch / el Presidente / Ambrosia Software, Inc.