"You really think you can unload all that concrete in six minutes?" she asked, her sarcastic tone was not enough to disguise her true feelings. She wanted me out of there.
"I promise I can do it," I replied without thinking. I absolutely love a challenge, and subconsciously I had all ready made up my mind to prove myself to her.
"You have eleven hours to come down here, and you chose the last five minutes?" she retorted. Ok, landfill gate attendant lady, no need to get insulting. I had raced here to arrive before closing time, not to mention the hurried job I did to load up the truck all by myself. I had worked hard to get here in time, and while one snide comment was understandably warranted in this situation, I had not given her much reason for two. It was clear though - her further taunt was meant to undermine my ability.
"What a bitch!" Emily summed up my feelings succinctly as we drove down into the waves of refuse.
The older man standing alone amongst the monuments to wastefulness had a similar appraisal to the bitch. "Concrete?" he said as I pulled near. "Just back up next to the hill there and unload it." I didn't want to make these folks work late, and their lack of confidence in me only pushed me harder. I whipped my dad's Ford Ranger around and lunged headlong -- er, asslong? -- toward my goal.
Jumping up into the bed, I strained to lift the concrete chunks and hurl them into the maelstrom of filth. Then the other items followed; a tree trunk, a couple dozen fence planks, pvc pipes, paint cans, and peg boards. Flinging the last items onto the heap, I jumped back in the cab and took off towards the gate.
"How was that?" I admit was smug as I settled the truck onto the scale.
"That was pretty good!" I had earned a smile from the landfill gate attendant lady. She handed me my receipt happily, and I drove off, rolling up my window at the stench.
Stamped on the receipt was a document of my accomplishment. I had unloaded 760 pounds in under 6 minutes!
