Intro
“Thank you.” Two simple words, yet when told together, in that order, they mean so much. Just those words, said to someone, makes them feel good, it makes them feel as though they did something right, and it makes them feel appreciated. So you would see my surprise when a trashcan thanked me for dumping my garbage into it. You could say I was overcome with joy and a feeling that by dumping my trash into this simple device I was helping the world to reach a greater good.
THE FUTURE IS NOW
It all started out as a normal day, hot, boring, but as I pulled into the K.F.C./Pizza Hut/Taco Bell I got a warm feeling inside me. A feeling that this day of my life would stand out from all the other days of my life. I entered the refreshingly cool-air-conditioned restaurant, a wonderful change from the massive heat of the outside world, and headed to the counter. I decided on getting the K.F.C. Honey Barbecue Chicken Sandwich Combo (my favorite sandwich from K.F.C. since the chicken littles). I sat down at a round table and started to consume the honey barbecuey chickeness of the combo. It was delicious, so good my taste buds screamed for another bite, I obeyed the screams and chomped down upon the sandwich. Then I started in on the potato wedges, and let me tell you that K.F.C. has damn, damn fine potato wedges. I ate my meal and washed it down with the doctory peppery goodness of doctor pepper. I leaned back, stretched my arms, looked around a little, and then stood up and headed to the trash disposal unit. When I arrived at this contraption, it seemed a little odd to me, but I ignored the shadiness of it and pushed my tray against the opening. Then something strange and unusual happened, the front panel lifted itself open. And then, without any warning it happened, the trash can, this lifeless object said to me, me Brian Buccaroni, “Thank you.” Yes you heard me right, “Thank you.” I jumped back and took a look around; maybe someone was playing a joke on me. But as my eyes scanned the area for any sign of life, I realized, this was no joke. I took a step towards the trashcan. I stood there in front of the peculiar thing, staring at it, tilting my head slightly to one side, pondering the ability of a trashcan to thank someone. It made me think, do trashcans have feelings, do they get happy, sad, or even angry. If so what would this mean for the future of mankind. Would we someday have to battle these practically invincible objects to gain control of our planet, our homes, and our Razor scooters? I walked closer to the trash and pushed on the panel, once again it opened and thanked me. I laughed in spite of myself, and realized that this simple object meant no harm to me or my family, but only was appreciative of my efforts to keep this world, my world, its world, clean for our future generations, plus it didn’t have any arms or legs so it really couldn’t attack anyone, so we’re good there.
That day I found out that trashcans can be great friends, always there for you, comforting you in your worst times, celebrating with you during your best. And as long as mankind doesn’t give them arms, legs, and opposable thumbs, trashcans would be horrible enemies. Also that day, besides learning so much about talking trashcans, I learned something about myself, and possibly all humans. We need others, to share happy times, sad times, and hard times. We need others to hate, to love, and to beat the ever living crap out of, cause let’s face it, those things just aren’t the same when done with a talking trashcan, I mean you punch it and it doesn’t even get made, it just sits there saying “Thank you.” So in closing sporks are actually called runsible spoons. Thank you, your fellow human, Brian.