They say that one person's trash is
another's treasure. But you never believed Them. Sure, you stopped by the
Salvation Army thrift store once or twice; you even bought that kitschy
"Joe Cool" desk lamp for $2. But trash? Surely no-one would simply throw
away anything cool.
Tell that to "Mike." Yeah, I had to change his name; he's kinda embarrassed
to admit that he makes his living digging through trash and selling the
loot he finds. Last week he found a stereo system. Mind you, not one of
those $75 compact systems with more flashing LEDs than actual features;
we're talking a complete Pioneer component system. In a dumpster. And it
worked just fine.
Sound crazy? Well, it is. But craziness is what you get at places like
Varsity Villas in Bloomington, Indiana...where every May, students vacate
their apartments in a flurry of post-semester haste. When, after a week of
final exams capped off by a weekend of alcoholic haze, these studentine
dwellers awake to find that their lease is up in four hours and U-Haul
isn't even answering its phones, many of them simply cram what they can
into the Cavalier, and 86 the rest.
That's when Mike shows up. Mike runs an auction house; he handles the
occasional estate sale or liquidation. But his bread-and-butter in this
college town is selling junked furnishings and electronics to students. "I
go around and collect about once a week," he says, standing next to his
late-model car. "It's incredible what people throw away; you'd think they'd
sell it or something. But I guess they just get sick of looking at it, and
the dumpster's closer than the Goodwill Store." I ask Mike if I can take
his picture; he wags his head. "This job is embarrassing enough," he
chuckles.
"Bill" makes his living from the
dumpsters of Bloomington as well: plucking cans from the bins with the help
of a customized golf putter (which he found in a dumpster years ago). "I've
been coming here for fifteen years," says the smiling, grizzled man. "The
people who live here know me by name now." Bill's not embarrassed about his
profession. "If I don't get these cans, somebody else is gonna," says
he.
No Cash? No Credit? No Problem!
Digging through trash has its stigmas, to be sure. If you're used to
charging VCRs and Guess jeans to dad's credit card, you may not be ready
yet to stick your head into a fly-infested bin and sift through Hefty bags.
But just you wait. You'll graduate from college; you'll get a job at Burger
King "just for an income, until I can find something good"...and
then your modem will fritz. Or the strap on your laptop satchel will snap.
And how can you afford a new one?
Easy. Take a walk down to your old university haunts. Amble through the
biggest apartment complexes on campus (dorms and frat houses are great,
too...just watch out for security). Casually approach the dumpster, your
hands jammed in your pockets (you don't wanna look too desperate);
and gaze over the crusty edge of the bin. Hopefully, the good stuff'll be
on top. If not, and you're feeling particularly adventurous, dig around a
bit. This is where you'll be glad you brought dish-gloves and wore your
nastiest pair of jeans.
Didn't find a modem? Don't fret. See that
sport jacket in the corner? Grab it. And the wok. And the two-slice
toaster. Remember the professional junkist's adage: money doesn't grow
on trees...it sprouts in dumpsters. At this rate, by the end of the day
you'll have enough loot that you can sell it at a pawnshop, and buy a
new modem.
Of course, it's possible that you'll find what you're looking for along the
way. You'll certainly be amazed what some folks call garbage. On my most
recent adventure, I found fifteen unopened cases of faux-leather book
bindings; a designer's paste-up waxing machine; four functioning office
telephones; two coffee tables; and a distinctly ugly but sturdy wicker
magazine rack. Others tell similar tales of
surprise finds in the trash heap.
So next time you're in need of adventure and high-tech toys, swallow your
pride and take a walk. With the right atttitude, the world can be your
oyster.
Just don't forget to wash your hands when you get home.
- Joe Nickell [7/4/97]
