I have great admiration for our dustmen. Not only because they pick up our rubbish and recycling for us, which is such a vital role in our society, but also because they are all round good eggs.
They are unfailing polite. They always say good morning to
me when I’m walking the kids to school and stand aside to let us past. If you
pull in when driving to let the dustcart go by, the men are hugely grateful.
And if you wait patiently in your car behind the dustcart until they’ve finished
emptying all the bins, well, you really get the red carpet treatment. The other morning when I did just that I was
saluted and waved through with a flourish. I consider our dustmen to be nothing
less than the new knights of the road.
However, if you show any sort of impatience, blow your horn,
or try to push past the dustcart, woe betide you. You’ll be stuck there twice
as long as you would have been had you been patient. And you’re likely to
experience a few choice words or an obscene gesture or two to boot.
And who can blame our dustmen? If I were trapped in a huge
lorry surrounded by the stench of rotting garbage while performing a community
service, I’d be expecting to demand some respect too.