You Treat Me Like Trash, You Get Trash

My dad’s good friend did rubbish collections for a while when he was broke. Essentially a man with a van who would lump all your rubbish into the back of his pick-up and get rid of it for a fixed price.

He agreed a price to clear a lot of rubbish from a customer’s house, which took him half a day and filled his van.

As he was about to drive off, he requested payment.

Knowing that he had invested a lot of time and effort into collecting and loading all this rubbish, the customer tried to capitalise on his vulnerability and knock him down on price.

After a few choice words and the customer not budging, my dad’s mate got in his van without taking any money and started to drive off. He then backed up onto the customers drive.

Here’s where it gets interesting, what the customer obviously didn’t realise, was the van was a tipper van. As the bed of the van started rising, the customer was frantically offering the full amount of payment.

My dad’s mate, even though he was broke, refused to stop the tipper function and said the rubbish was piled up so high, the customer, who was standing there bewildered, wouldn’t have even been able to get in the front door. 

He drove off broke but happy.