This is what is so depressing and frustrating and discouraging: yesterday afternoon I spent a good 2 hours picking up each and every scrap of garbage and debris from 43rd Avenue, every little parking receipt and crumpled tissue that I could find. By around 4:30pm I was exhausted, but the Avenue was spotless (between 72nd and 74th Streets at least). I went home satisfied, only to come out a couple hours later to find this:
Dec. 28, 2014 pile on 43rd Ave. |
Box in the Dec 28 pile. Return address is B&N. Looks like the idiot who dumped this pile was smart enough to remove his or her own name at least... |
And here of course we have yet another 43rd Avenue Whitefish. The one in the photo is the fourth that I saw just yesterday (Dec. 28) on 43rd. Oh, and while I was freaking out over the dump pile and yelling and crying like a lunatic, there was a car parked nearby that had a couple who looked like they were pretty, er, active in the backseat. I didn't exactly pause to look, and honestly I was too irate over this dump-pile to give a crap about people forking on the Avenue. But when I saw this 4th condom, after my hours of cleanup that resulted in nothing more than a f*ck-you-dump-pile, I just about gave up all hope. I mean, understand: I had already picked up 1, 2, 3 used condoms that same day from the same block.
I think I met the pimp who was waiting for the transaction in the car to wind down. When I spotted the dump pile from my corner, I stormed toward it furiously, but even in that state I noticed a guy hanging out by the overpass. He was just standing there playing a game on his phone (or so I surmised from the beeping/zinging noises the phone was emitting). The guy was about 15 feet from the parked car with the f*cking couple (and the parked car was pretty much right in front of the dump pile). So I was crying and cursing like a crazy lady, and taking flash photos of the pile, and using my phone flashlight (which is actually pretty powerful) while I was digging through the boxes frantically trying to find a name and address (don't know why though; when someone actually dumped boxes with his name and address on it and I reported it to 311, the operator said that there was nothing she could do with the info). After a few minutes of me looking/acting like a lunatic, and probably causing too much of a ruckus too close to the f*ckmobile, the guy came over to me and said, in a really annoyed kind of tone, "What are you looking for?" I turned to him and I swear I was crying, I mean, I was SO hurt and frustrated at that point that I didn't even care if he was a pimp, or a dealer who was protecting his turf and about to blow my head off, and I just said "I'm looking for an address of the person who did this! I just cleaned this entire block, and look what someone did!!" I must have sounded so hysterical that he just sort of rolled his eyes and went back to his post. The people in the car never even seemed to notice my presence (if they did, it certainly did not interfere with their activity, from the moving shapes/shadows I could see in the darkened car window).
Yeah, so it was a holiday weekend full of prostitution (or at least blatant street f*cking) and dumping, and a seemingly wasted 2 hours of my life.
UPDATE: 12:32pm: My hubby called to inform me that the garbage was picked up already! (I had called this in to 311 last night.) YAY!!!!!!!!!!THANK YOU THANK YOU DSNY!!!!