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Dude, where’s my garbage?

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“Did you see a clunky computer charger in the dining room?” my wife Sarah called while I was walking the dog.

In an instant, I knew my Sunday evening would be a misery. “Uh, you mean the one on the sideboard?” I replied, as if there were others lying around.

“Yes, that one,” she said, and I confessed I’d thrown it out. It had been there all weekend, where we often place outdated electronics for last dibs before discarding them. But this one connected to my son Asher’s old-model Lenovo ThinkPad, which he uses for his hospital research job. Without it, he’d be dark the following morning for his Zoom meetings and harvesting of patient data. And I would be excommunicated.

Best here to skip ahead to our co-op’s outdoor garbage shed. That’s where Sarah and I rushed to scavenge among the bins before the night porter started hauling bags to the street for Monday morning pick-up.

Stepping into the courtyard, I may have seemed a tad cocky — after all, I’d sort of been here before. In 1987, living in a different building, I forgetfully tossed an $8,000........

© NY Daily News

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