My main function at my real job at Alex Surf Club is rubbish – leaves and palm fronds.
I leave the customer service to others.
But I think my obsessive-compulsive disorder has finally taken over.
Well, everyone else knew that, except me.
For instance, my son set up a meeting one day at the beach kiosk at Alex and, unbeknown to me, threw palm fronds on the path.
When I came around the corner, I was picking them all up as everyone sat there laughing.
Very funny!
Or the other day at a nippers presentation, with 200 people in the room, I noticed a food spot on the carpet right in front of where the speeches were being made.
I stared at it, looked away, tried to ignore it but about 30 minutes in, it got the better of me.
I found a little red brush and got on my hands and knees and cleaned it.
My disorder was on display for all to see.
But all I was worried about was the carpet, not the 200 looking on going: “What the?”
Rubbish is my thing.
In my world, the most important people are the rubbish contractors because as the Coast gets busier and busier, rubbish is a top priority.
Same in the parks and gardens around the Coast.
A lot of users treat the areas with disrespect, so the rubbish collectors and amenity contractors should be our most important people – the ones we always say hello to and offer a hand or a cold drink.
Without them, we would be living in absolute chaos.
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Back to my weird behaviour.
The last piece of the puzzle to confirm I have finally been totally controlled by rubbish was a working bee the other day.
Everyone was very proud of themselves as they had totally filled the big bin up with stuff we didn’t need anymore.
I was proud as well, until I found out the bin man had already been.
I freaked out and, even though the team told me they would go to the dump, I couldn’t wait.
So there I was in our industrial bin at lunchtime on a Friday, pulling all the stuff out so I could fill my ute up and go to the dump.
It was best summed up by a nice lady walking past.
She peered into the bottom of the bin as I scratched around in there like an agitated scrub turkey, and said: “I guess I will read about this next week.”
Scrub turkeys – now don’t get me started on them!
Ashley Robinson is a columnist with Sunshine Coast News and My Weekly Preview. His views are his own.
