The Box Of Nearly New Toys Sitting On A Dumpster

One Sunday, while out working my long time, regular dumpster diving route, I found a cardboard box sitting on top of a shopping center’s dumpster that had good, barely used toys in it. The toys are for a 5 to 8 year old boy; I help to raise my grandnephew, so he now gets to play with the toys here in my home.

The box had obviously been placed there where it would be found by someone, so that the toys could be reused if any finders wanted them. The person who placed the box there had probably thought that either some store employee chuckin’ out trash may find it, anyone walking by there could have found it, or most likely they thought that the trash truck workers who emptied the dumpster would have to see the toys in the box when the driver or their helper got out to place the box into the dumpster, with the trash in there, so that the dumpster could be lifted up and emptied into the truck. It was very considerate of the toy buyer not to place the box inside of the dumpster, but they probly had no idea that a dumpster diver checks that dumpster for good stuff every Sunday.

As soon as I saw the excellent, barely used condition of the toys and the particular variety of them, I figured that the person who had purchased the toys had recently ended a short but very close relationship with the single parent of a small boy, whom the toy purchaser was not a parent of. There was just the right amount and selection of nice, not cheap but not expensive, toys for a child to be very happily occupied with during long and/or overnight visits to someone else's home.

I believe that the toys were discarded after the little boy's parent had broken off a romantic relationship with the person who had purchased the toys for the boy. Then, the boy’s mother’s or father’s broken hearted ex-lover had discarded the toys after it was clear that neither his/her ex-lover nor the boy would ever be returning to the toy buyer's home. The toy buyer either had no one close to him/her who could use the toys, or she/he did not want to ever, ever see the toys again and thusly be reminded of the painful breakup every time that he/she would visit the relative or friend or neighbor whom the toys may have been given to.

So that toy buyer had done the next best thing and placed the toys in a clean cardboard box then had placed that box on top of a dumpster where anyone walking near the dumpster could see it and possibly take it so that some other child could have the toys to play with.

I took the box of toys home and set it down on my living room floor. Even though they were definitely real clean, I was going to disinfect them with Lysol spray anyway.

A half-hour later a friend of mine comes over. He knows all about my d-divin but has only done it himself when he throws his own trash out at his apartment complex. His best find was a great little, new looking toolbox full of small sized, top of the line hobby tools that he sold later. So as he is walkin’ in my front door, I say, "Hey man, check out what's in that box there that I found sitting out on top of the ‘wrong raid’ dumpster." He glances down into the box and says, "Looks like a good relationship gone bad to me."

It was that obvious.

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I Have Wanted To Write About Dumpster Diving For A Long Time

I have wanted to write stuff about dumpster diving and post it on the World Wide Web ever since the first time that I ever went on the Internet.

In 1999, when I was first learning how to use a computer, I attended a free Internet beginner’s class at a local library. After the first 1/2 hour of introductive instruction, the instructor said to type some words into the Internet search box that relate to something which you are very interested in. I used to live in Maine, so I put in Patten Maine; and wow was I surprised at all the hits I got and how there are web sites showing all about the places where I lived and worked up there. I had expected to see that all web sites were all just plain text and general info kinda’ deals. The Maine web sites are beautiful, and I was sitting there feeling absolutely amazed and pleased that I had finally found out just what the Internet actually is, when all of a sudden, from across that library room full of computers and other people, I heard a loud voice say, "DUMPSTER DIVING! DUMPSTER DIVING? IS DUMPSTER DIVING A SPORT?" In a room full of that many people naturally one of them had to type in "sports" as their first main interest for web searching.

My second Internet search was for dumpster diving. I had been a serious and successful d-diver for around 7-8 years previous to that day at the library, and when I saw what was posted on the web by other d-divers, well I tell ya, it was exciting. Then I read a web page where it was open for all dumpster divers to post their best finds. Hallelujah! Praise the Lord and Dive That Dumpster! Ole Dave done found a mighty fine thing!

Ever since that first five minutes on the WWW, I have been waiting to get myself and my writing skills together enough to write about dumpster diving and share my d-divin skills and adventures with the whole freakin' world.

Keep yur’ eyes open, yur’ nose closed, and DIVE! DIVE! DIVE!

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The Furious Fur Ball’s Mexican Standoff In Dumpster Land

I got a dumpster diving safety tip for ya all.

Raccoons and other furry critters eat in dumpsters.

In all my years of dumpster diving, I was only surprised by one Raccoon in a dumpster one time, and luckily it did not run outa the dumpster over top of me. That little sucka only ran about 30 feet away though and turned around to see if I was chasin it cause it thought that I was a huge predator comin after it to make it my yummy little prey. But when it saw me just standin there lookin at it, that crazy critter musta figured we was both after chucked out food and was competitors. The dumpster was behind a small office building, so the only food ever in it was from unfinished lunches. Local homeowners doing home and garage cleanouts and chuckin the stuff in there illegaly was my best source of good reusable items found in that dumpster, and I wasn’t gonna leave till I checked it.

I stomped at zeee Raccoooon, but it stood firm, stared hard at me, and angrily hissssed. It wouldn’t back down. I could not safely turn my attention from it and dumpster dive.

It was like The Furious Fur Ball’s Mexican Standoff In Dumpster Land.

Zee hungry crittaah stood its grouwwnd firmly and tried its most natural best to back me down and scare me away from its snack shack. There was just enough light shining down from an overhead streetlamp for me to see that thee Raccoooon’s itty-bitty dark eyeballs were psychically sending out near-vicious vibes that were meant to convey this message, “Back down yerself ya tall dumb critter, I got strong, sharp teeth and wicked fast switchblade claws and know how ta use um.”

Beins I’s an old ex-Maine Guide and knows that ya gotta stay clear of rabid Racoooons, I looked at the critter’s hisssin, sorta snarrrlin, sharp toothed little mouth and its overall general appearance and watched its movements very closely for any of the signs of that mind and body ravaging disease named Rabies. Nope, no foaming at the mouth or anything, it did not aggressively move in towards me, it was just an ornery critter. So I stomped at it step by step and over a fence that lined the alley there and up a tree on the other side of the fence it went. What a tough sum beechy that Coon was.

Now look, I wasn’t being unfair to a fellow dumpster diver. It was after dark and about 10PM, and I had to get the d-diving done before it was time for the reasonably more suspicious night shift cops to come on duty. I wanted to get home before 11. The Raccoon was just beginning its natural nocturnal wandering’s, so it had plenty of time to come back and eat. There wasn’t ever much food scraps in there anyway, it just smelled sooo interesting in there to the Coon, and I wasn’t taking what the critter wanted and vice-a-versy. Plus, there is an apartment building right there over that fence that the Raccoon climbed over and there were plenty of dumpsters full of sloppy, juicy kitchen waste there and therefore much better d-divin ops for the Coon.

Watch out for them furry critters when dumpster diving at night. Beware of Raccoons, and definitely Opossums too. Possums have long, nasty, pointy-sharp teeth for tearing flesh, and they will, at rare times, turn on you and hissss angrily too. Foxes are all over cities and suburbs now, and Coyotes also. These critters have all been seen and photographed digging in trashcans, so that means they all probably hit dumpsters too. And you should see how a Fox pops way up and over a backyard fence, like it is bouncing on an Electric Pogo Stick; that means that they can get into some dumpsters. Heh, heh, hey, oh jeeze, now come to think of it, there's a big ruckus on in New Jersey between some local politicians and citizens about whether certain small town, suburban type municipalities should begin paying for and distributing bear proof trash cans and dumpsters. Whooweee! Watch out for them bears!!

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Dumpster Diving Song

Here is a link to a dumpster diving song by a guy named Raccoon. I have a copy of the song on a cassette tape that my nephew bought at a live music festival, but I can't find where you can buy Raccoon's music on the Internet.

Here is where you can find the words and guitar chords to the song titled Dumpster Diver.

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Sanitary Dumpster Diving

One thing that you need to know is that the majority of items which I remove from dumpsters had been placed inside of them in new, clean, plastic trash bags or clean cardboard boxes.

I take great care not to mess with anything in dumpsters that has been contaminated by kitchen waste/rotting food type garbage. But, believe it or not, some dumpsters where we frequent dumpster divers find our most valuable treasures have rarely ever had any rotting, germ ridden garbage thrown into them.

Technically, you could say that the trash bags or boxes come out of the dumpsters and the stuff I take home comes out of the bags and boxes.

Except for clothing, I sanitize any items that I take which have sat in a dumpster where just a mild breeze could blow germs onto them off of the dumpster walls or any actual garbage in there. Large, hard surfaced items are thoroughly doused with disinfectant spray. If such an item has touched anyplace where germs always thrive, it is thoroughly washed, wiped dry, and sprayed with disinfectant. Smaller items like kitchenware are rinsed, soaked in soapy water, rinsed, washed with soapy water, soaked in a water-bleach mixture to sanitize it, then rinsed again. Eveything I take from dumpsters that may remotely need it is cleaned and sanititized before I use it or pass it on, PERIOD.

Most clothing that I get while d-diving is already clean, but the small amount that I have ever kept for myself is run through the washer before I wear it. If it ain’t clean and dry, it stays where I find it. The only exceptions where I have taken dirty clothes are the few jackets or coats I took to wear while doin' more d-divin' later, and they got washed down in the shower, soaked in a tub of real hot water and detergent, and then rinsed, rung out, and run through the washing machine.

If it has rained onto a load of good, usable stuff in a dumpster, and the rain water has washed down upon the goodies from over top of some of that awful looking and smelling kitchen waste/rotting food type garbage, that most people think is the only thing found in a dumpster, then the only reason that I would take a seriously contaminated item out to keep it is if it was so obviously valuable that any darn fool who saw it in there would grab it and go.

The psychology of knowing that the items came out of a dumpster does bother me a little, but the science of how I choose, remove, then handle the items and determine which ones need cleaning and sanitizing is squeaky clean.

There usually isn’t anything unsanitary about most of the good, usable stuff that you can find in a dumpster. Because, it is protected by the brand new plastic trash bags, cardboard boxes, or some other clean containers that it might have been placed in before it got chucked into the big, green, sometimes filthy-stinky-unsanitary, magical treasure chest. If I didn’t have a bit of an aggravating anxiety disorder, I’d be able to skip on a lot of that detailed cleaning and sanitizing d-dived goodies that I do.


So keep yur’ eyes open, yur’ nose closed, and DIVE! DIVE! DIVE!

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