BK Anthology: Dumpster Fire



I'm a real stickler for breaking down boxes. I get onto my wife when she puts an empty box in the trash can without flattening it. Every time I explain that it's wasting space. If you break it down it leaves so much more room. I'm like a broken record. I got really anal about it when I worked at Burger King. I've written thrice about Burger King already (The Summer of CricketsOptimism in a World of Shit, and False Prophets and Wicked Laymen)  and now I'm writing about it again. My first job was very influential to me.

Throughout the day at BK we would empty out several boxes and just toss the empty corrugated fiberboard containers toward the rear door. After close of business it was time to take out the trash. It's obviously easier to cart out thirty flattened boxes to the dumpster than making five trips with assembled boxes. We had two large dumpsters, but a single day's trash would easily fill them to capacity if filled with boxes still in their 3D states. I should have used box cutters but always found myself showing off by using my bare hands to pop the flaps apart.

Generally speaking the dumpster was not a place you wanted to congregate around. Even the smokers didn't typically use taking out the trash as an excuse to light up. Old rotting food in a stuffy steel box in the Texas heat has a way of hitting you hard. One evening a lady in the drive thru made a rather dubious claim. She informed the cashier that she had heard a cat in the dumpster and was afraid it was trapped. Somehow I drew the short straw and was assigned the vile task of rescuing our forlorn feline friend. Joy.

I headed out there and popped up the lids. Nothing seemed amiss. I heard nothing strange. I saw nothing out of order other than ketchup sprayed on the walls like a scene from Dexter. I called out, “Here kitty kitty.” Nothing. I waited a few moments. I weighed entering the garbage receptacle. What if I stepped on the cat? What if I got rotting food all over me? I really didn't want a three day old Whopper to end up the inside my shoes. In the interest of critter conservancy I opted to commence Operation Dumpster Dive. I climbed into one of the dumpsters and picked a corner. I flipped things over. I moved things around. Then I went to another corner. Then another. Then another. Nothing. I went to the other dumpster then repeated. I continued this for a while. Hesitancy is how I initially pursued this endeavor, but defeat still tasted bitter. I gave up. There never was a cat in there. I went back to work. Apparently I was out there for an hour. All of that crap I did and I was paid $5.20 BEFORE taxes. Did I ever mention the high turnover rate in fast food (Hint: YES).

Stuart K is the fraternal twin of Nick who worked at Burger King. I guess Stuart must have been visiting Nick or whatever because he was there once when I was taking a trash can out to the dumpster. We were probably talking about band or something (He was also a trumpet player that was featured in the Branson Story). He had some matches and started lighting them and tossing them in the trash can I was rolling out there. After a couple he melted the trash bag. He kept tossing them in there though. Tossing and tossing. Thing is, trash cans at fast food joints have paper in them. Bags, tray liners, burger wrappers, receipts, etc. One of the matches ignited something and there was now a fire in the trash can. Holy cow! Instead of walking to the dumpster we were running! I threw up the lid and picked up the can and dumped the contents in there. I slammed shut the lid and figured lack of oxygen would extinguish the flame. Nope. The lid was plastic and eventually enough heat was generated to warp the lid. Now it didn't cover the whole dumpster anymore. Black smoke billowed from the orifice of litter. We were both like, “Crap!” I made my way back to the building smoke still poured out of the dumpster. I decided to just go back to work and forget about it. I didn't want to get in trouble. Stuart left and I never heard about a great trash inferno again. I guess it just worked itself out.

Another lady, though I wouldn't be surprised if it's the same “cat lady” , lost her ring in one of our trash cans. She flagged me down and said she dumped her tray in the can and guessed that her ring hit the flappy cover thing and came off. I told her, “no problem,” and removed the can out of the rectangular prism container from which it resided. I said, “here you go,” and she just sort of gave me a dirty look. What? She wanted me to dig through the trash? I was making $5.20 and hour. Sigh. I pulled out the can from the neighboring container. I started carefully scooping trash from the offending can and dumping it into the other. Nothing. She realized she probably left her ring at home. What?!? How does somebody make this mistake? Was she purposefully torturing me? Was she exerting some sort of sick power over a teenage boy making minimum wage? Screwed up world we live in.

I was blessed to enjoy a job for spending money. It paid very little and was truly inglorious but a lot of people in the world work a lot harder for a lot less. Still though, while I have said I would recommend this job to everybody if just for a short period, it is not good work. 20 years later I always treat fast food workers with the utmost respect. It may not be noble work, but the person doing it might be a noble worker. It would behoove everybody to be kind and courteous. Ideally we would treat a fast food worker ( or any person in an “undesirable” field) with the same attitude and cognizance as a lawyer, police officer, doctor or teacher.

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