Philly’s not kind after it rains.
Whatever’s lurking just out of the smellosphere comes bursting forth, and the entire city smells like it’s been rolling around in the garbage. Soaking, stinking, sopping wet trash populates some street corners with odors so foul you almost want to hand over your wallet.
Chauncey and I were heading on down 20th Street today when we came upon this little scene:
Like everybody else, you’re looking for an explanation, and like everybody else, I don’t have one.
That’s a couple of hunks of meat, sitting on a storm drain.
“Oh, someone just dropped a sandwich last night,” I thought.
Nope. There’s a ton of food there. If that all came from one sandwich, there’s a giant walking around somewhere, feasting on an entire barnyard full of farm animals in one meal.
It smelled terrible, and it was right outside a restaurant, so to be safe, don’t eat anywhere on 20th Street.
You’re welcome.
And so, as I listen to the rattle and crash of my recycling outside being strewn all over the street from gale-force winds, I can’t help but realize how this neighborhood is assaulted by trash. Clearly, we need a better solution if our current methods have our recycling spread out over a 20 block radius overnight and our meat escaping into the sewers. Maybe it’s time for a re-evaluation of our strategy.
Or we could just ignore it until the trash becomes self-aware and kills us.
