“Are you familiar with 303?” Chase asks me.
“A little. But I’m more of a 59 guy.”
“Yeah? I like to think of myself as a 9W type of guy.”
“Really? That’s good.”
“So what’s on 303?”
“You know Casa Mia?”
“Well there’s…um…I’ve got nothing. That’s usually the landmark I use.”
About five minutes later, I realize that we haven’t seen this dump. What does it even look like? Is it gonna be a line of dumpsters on the side of the road? Does it look like a graveyard for Transformers? What are we looking for here? And because of the lessons I’ve learned from years of getting lost, I quickly pull over at a gas station to make sure we’re going in the right direction.
“Exucse me, sir,” I ask the man pumping his gas. “Do you know where Rockland Dump is?”
“Are you a citizen?” he asks.
Am I a what? Things have just taken a strange turn really quickly.
“If you’re not a citizen, there’s a dump down the other way, but you have to pay for it. But if you are a citizen, then there’s one nearby that’s free.”
Maybe my sarcasm radar was broken. Maybe I’m just gullible and can’t tell that this guy is trolling me. But it doesn’t matter. We just want to dump this stupid gasoline. And why would anyone charge you to throw waste away? What kind of world do we live in? Why are we even here?
“How do we get to the free one?” I ask him.
“Keep going down this road until you get to an old drive-in theater. Turn left into that little driveway and the dump will be there. You can’t miss it.”
There’s that phrase again. You keep using that phrase. I don’t think it means what you think it means.
“Thanks.” And off we go, glad we stopped for directions, but secretly questioning whether we should be carrying green cards or not.