i am expecting a visitor this afternoon. so what do i do? i do what anybody else would do—clean the bathroom. clean the kitchen. vacuum.
take out the garbage.
i extract garbage bags from the various trash cans around my apartment. i put on my shoes. i exit the back door of the building to the back parking lot, where the dumpster is located.
i ascend the steps from the lower level. and as i hit street level, what do i see? i see a homeless man picking through the dumpster into which i was about to deposit my trash.
i was only steps away, and so was committed to the act.
and the fact that i was accomplishing this in the unnerving presence of a homeless person—desperately looking for food and clothing—was nothing short of humiliating.
i approached quietly, with the gravest of faces, and tried as gingerly as i could to throw my garbage away.
as i turned to go back into my apartment, he wished me a good morning, and ravenously tore open my garbage bags.
i have never felt so undeserving in my entire life.