Bright and not so bright young things

On the one hand, there was the young man who works in Jessops camera shop. My four year old IXUS 400 packed up recently, and while it doesn't have the bin-with-a-line through it mark on it, its replacement does. So I thought I would take it back to the place where I got it and see if they knew what to do with it.

The young man who works in Jessops camera shop said he was sorry, but this branch of Jessops wasn't able to take cameras for recycling. But, he said, he was going to London soon and he knew a shop there that would take them, so he'd take it there for me if I wanted.

I wanted. I thanked him very much indeed, and left the shop feeling warm inside. A little goodwill goes a long way, and his took me very nearly all the way home.

But then on the other hand there are my braying, gormless, charmless student neighbours. Just after they left for Christmas, I found our wheelie bin stuffed with what I presumed was their surplus rubbish, as theirs was overflowing. I took it all out and chucked it into their front garden (for the very good reason that the bin wouldn't be emptied for nearly a fortnight, and where the fuck were we supposed to put *our* rubbish in the meantime?) but did feel slightly guilty in case it wasn't them.

When I got home today, our wheelie bin had two black binliners jammed into it, neither of which was ours. I hauled one of them into the house and we poked gingerly through the detritus, at least 50% of which should have been in a green or blue box rather than the bin anyway, until I found half a bank statement, which proved conclusively that it was indeed Caroline (or one of her charming housemates) who had decided again that our bin was at their disposal.

We wrote them a note, asking them to cease and desist, pointing out that a) they can order a bigger bin if they want one and b) they could always try recycling a bit more, and dumped their bags on their doorstep.

I hate them. I know it's a waste of hatred, but I can't help it. They should have enough A-levels between them to work out what goes in which bin and when it's going to be collected. Guidance is freely available in Simple English and any other language you care to mention.

Meanwhile, I now have Caroline's home address (her house has a name, not a number, naturally), sort code and bank account number. As she dumped it in my bin on my property, I probably didn't break any laws obtaining it. It's very tempting to set up a chunky standing order to Friends of the Earth, a la Jeremy Clarkson. It is so tempting that I'm blogging it to stop me doing it. But if anyone's feeling similarly malevolent, be my guest.

joella