WPC: Details 2

SOMETIMES

the details are in the little things. By which I mean the little things that make up human nature, the little things with which we identify (or merely observe with barely muttered tuts).

As in this little thing, below, something we all recognise—

mmmm

—and found scattered with mad rapturous abandonment all over the globe.

I came across it when hoofing up a road (Yarrow Street) in deepest Invercargill. It was just one detail on a portable coffee cup of the sort you buy when you ask for “…to take away, please…” which keeps your portable potable conveniently in one place whilst you potate it en route.

BUT~!

And here’s your but: but what do you do with said convenient conveyor when you have conveniently conveyed and guzzled it? (The contents, silly person—you don’t guzzle the cup.)

INVERCARGILL

is well spread out. Widely spread out, in fact. The so-called ‘Central Business District’ is in fact optimistically misnomerised, which is why parking is at an absolute premium and everyone here an expert in hoofing from alpha to bravo zulu; and another reason why the dispensers of portable potions thrive in such numbers.

INVERCARGILL

is also sadly lacking in the rubbish/garbage bin department.

No major shortage in the main drag, I’ll admit—but get thee away from the major roads and you are doomed eternally to wander the face of the planet for ever and ever, looking for somewhere to—

(a) ditch the blasted empty cup, or

(b) be creative in disposing of it by any means—

—that don’t involve trespass and/or large dogs. For myself as I pass The Plaza Foodmarket I quietly sneak over to one of their skips and inbinerate my empty there. It’s fortunate that my cup drainings and ambulations and The Plaza all coincide in time and space; which for me is good, but an earlier guy than I along the same route was a tad more creative in disposal—

mugged

—and I thought the Challenge too good to resist. (When I walked back later with The Spouse in tow the delivery van was still there but the cup had gone.

What the finder had done with it I have no idea, and I thought that any variation on the knock-and-ask theme might be misconstrued as “Please may I have my coke back?” leading to me becoming a somewhat damp and sticky pedestrian. Some questions are better left floating, sometimes it’s better to focus on the whole picture rather than the details …

.

BOOM BOOM~!

.

 

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3 thoughts on “WPC: Details 2

  1. Very inventive disposal of rubbish.

    From my experience the lack of rubbish bin can mean only two things, either there is a fear of potential terrorism – bins are great for setting alight and such stuff if you happen to be bored and feeling antagonistic, or, and this the most likely, the local council are a bunch of tight-wads, and can’t be bothered to provide adequate disposal points for the general but faithfully compliant populace. Either way it must be a nuisance, but it does promote creativity you must admit, and that’s always good, isn’t it…?

    1. The Invercargill Council can’t be tightwads, forever sending councillors on fact-fingding or purchase missions to China, and twinning us with Chinese and Japanese cities … so it has to be fear of binfires.
      But away from the mainest of main streets, one is very hard pressed to find any means of disposal other than inventiveness. We have weird fruit in many hedges…

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