Eli

“Oh for fuck-sake. It’s only 7:40 and we have another fucking truck stuck.”

The rain was persistent causing the dirt to act more like quick sand. Clouds were every shade of grey imaginable. Eli is cover head to toe in the this muck and can’t seem to escape it. With every step he takes he consciously needs to make sure he doesn’t lose his boot or else his shitty day would get shittier. The birds cover the sky and not stunning birds but “rats with wings” as Eli calls them. Seagulls swarm diving and digging through the trash to scavenge for one single morsal. Hawks survey the field looking for a weak seagull to take down .

“Do you have 4-Wheel Drive?!” Eli shouts towards the next car. “If you don’t I am not dealing with you getting stuck!” Frustration of the day is starting to build up.

Tattooed head to toe with terrible tattoos. Eli really doesn’t remember how he got all of them or what they stand for but he likes them. Each tattoo is like a scar but gives Eli a sense of strength and power. He understands he isn’t very bright but when it comes to the dump he is the king.

Eli dropped out of High School to sell weed. He spent all of his time just getting high and driving around Baltimore. He would target the more affluent neighborhoods knowing it would be less trouble for him. Driving around his 1997 Forrest Green Jeep Gran Cherokee. He was living the best life.

“Everytime it rains. These assholes drive their trucks deep into the fucking landfill without 4WD and then I have to tow them out and waste my time and other people’s time.” He says to Bill. Bill laughs and enjoys hanging out with Eli because he is confident.

He wanders over to the line of cars. As he’s walking he can’t help but think how did I get here. He tries to blame it on certain people and external circumstances. Hopefully one day he’ll realize it was he who was at fault. But it is easier for him to put this on his parents, his friends, and anyone else he was associated with.

The mound of trash at a landfill continuously piles up. Everyday more mattresses, more pianos, more Tupperware, more trash. Which Eli is constantly pushing around to create more space in the landfill for more trash. He feels is job just goes around and around in a circle and wonders if people will stop throwing shit away. The piles seem to recreate the Rockies with trash reaching for the sky like mountains jetting through clouds. The line of trucks seems never ending to Eli. He just prays for a day without rain but this week has not been the best.

Dodging seagulls Eli runs to get to the break room. Warm cozy white walled box. Most people would equate it to a psych ward room but to Eli it is Buckingham Palace. He kicks his feet up, leans his chair back, and he can finally relax for 15 minutes. Getting out the rain is a god sent. Rock n roll plays through an old speaker on a piece of plastic lawn furniture they pulled out of the landfill.

The whistle blows back to the trenches. He approaches the whole and shakes his head. Eli wonders what would they do without me. Hustling down into the landfill watching the escavator dig out trash exactly where he has been sending trucks. Most people wouldn’t have the pride Eli now has for this job. Blue-collar usually equates to happier individuals. Eli truly believes a hard days work beats sitting at a desk all day.

As the day slows down and more truck head towards their own homes Eli strolls to his Jeep. Puts his muddy boots in the back hops in the drivers seat. Led Zepplin pierces through his speakers. Just another day at the Eastern Landfill.