People

I’m picking up broken and abandoned wooden tees after work. We’re not allowed to set the rubber ones up yet because of COVID-19-related policy. If people bring their own, they’re happy to wedge them in the mats and use them. Naturally, nobody picks up after themselves. People suck.

We were packed all day and the last customer didn’t leave until a few minutes after the lights went out. In this person’s defense, nobody officially told him to leave at 9. The lights usually give it away, though.

Long story short, I’m doing chores in the dark that shouldn’t be necessary with trash cans in full view all over the range. People don’t like bending down or walking more than they have to.

I’m at work 30 extra minutes. I’m tired and my back hurts. It’s dark, I’m sweating, and a pack of coyotes has been known to venture on the range after hours. I just have to remember to turn the A/C off when I lock up. I honestly don’t know if I’ve completed the closing checklist, but if I don’t leave soon, I’m going to obsess for another 45 minutes. Again, if people could avoid leaving a mess, none of this would’ve happened.

…

I’m eating a Snickers on the way home--the kind that comes in two pieces in a slightly bigger wrapper. I’m starving and can’t remember what I had for breakfast. I’m eating my feelings.

I finish both pieces by the time I’m on 90. When I merge onto 95 north a few minutes later, I’m aware of the problem: the empty wrapper in the passenger seat. I’ve been here before. I’m not going to remember to take it out of my car and throw it away when I get home. I’ll continue forgetting for weeks, maybe months. I’ll use it is as an excuse to leave more trash in my car. I want to toss the wrapper out the window and be done with it. I try to justify it.

There’s no one on the road, somebody will find it in the morning and throw it away.

There’s been a pandemic, people have been on lockdown, and this is probably the cleanest 95 has ever been. One wrapper’s fine.

You’ve had a hard day, you deserve to litter, etcetera, etcetera.

My conscience gets to me and I never pull the trigger. I make the decision shortly after passing the Waltham/Weston exit. Instead, I stuff it in the center compartment under the middle armrest. There’s other stuff in there too, apparently, but I don’t wanna look. This isn’t my first rodeo. I’m a people, and I suck too.