Speculation about new recycling carts reaches fever pitch

On August 7th, city workers are slated to deliver shiny new recycling carts to every residence in Portland, ME. These large carts will hold almost four times as much refuse as the old bins used by the city. According to city planners, it is also the perfect repository for hopes, dreams, and empty antidepressant bottles. 

            Residents of Portland’s peninsula--many of them renters--have been wondering where they will put their carts. “I have to park on the street,” explained Morning Street resident Mara Dawson. “Where am I supposed to put the cart? My landlord is less than understanding.”
            Andrew Emerson, an established self-serving asshole and landlord of the Morning Street residence, was not available for comment.
            Area hobo John Akins is still weighing the pros and cons of the new carts. “Pro: there might be more bottles and cans in those carts. Con: it might be noisier to pick the bottles out. I prefer to use a subtle hand when I look for redeemables, so I am deeply concerned.”
            Other residents have expressed fury that the city will not be collecting the old bins. “This is an outrage,” spat Mellen Street resident Michael Samson. “That bin will be gathering dust in the basement until the day that I die. Maybe I should just be buried in it.”
            Fortunately for Samson, the Maine College of Art (MECA) is collecting the old bins so that they can be used in students’ forthcoming multimedia installations. This year’s installations, “Recycled Memories: Plastic, Identity, and the Cart of Gentrification” will be on display in the spring.
            Other Portlanders are thinking about more ways to repurpose the old bins. Andrea Miller of Cultivating Community plans to use hers for container gardening. Birth Roots, a support program for new parents, is thinking about offering the old bins as environmentally sustainable bassinets. “What new mother wouldn’t want her baby to honor our city’s long history of recycling by napping her little one in a repurposed bin?” a Birth Roots volunteer wisely pointed out.
            You will know your cart has arrived when you hear its wheels rolling along the pavement, the sound a hypnotizing and scratchy swan song. It will stand before you, a sapphire promise of sustainability, its girth suggesting: this week’s empty cardboard boxes and latte cups and junk mail will fit in here. So will that body that you’ve been hiding under the steps.