Trash pick-up hour

I'd always heard that living in Mexico required a great deal of flexibility. Until I moved here, though, I didn't realize that it would also require punctuality. Yes, be flexible. Don't get upset when the plumber's "I'll fix your toilet tomorrow" is left unfulfilled for three months. But on that glorious day when he calls and says he'll be at the house at 3 p.m., you'd better be home by 2:30. If, for some chance, he happens to show, you don't want to risk a broken toilet for another three months because you weren't home.

The flexibility/punctuality dichotomy is never as apparent as it is on trash pick-up days. Trash is picked up three days each week down here: Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. The garbage man comes at eight p.m., and the trash cannot be taken out before seven. If we have trash that simply must go (and without an outdoor dumpster, that does happen), my roommate and I have to rearrange our schedules to make sure that at least one of us is home at the exact right hour for taking out the garbage. Taking it out any earlier results in a nasty mess in front of our apartment, courtesy of the neighborhood dogs.

Of course, flexibility is also important in the garbage situation. Sometimes, the pick-up guys just don't come. Last night was one of those nights. The dogs got the the trash today, and I had to step over the scattered remains of a bag of dirty diapers to get to my apartment. Ah, the joys of living in Mexico.