TIFU By pulling my trash can into my open garage on our last day at our home this morning

I’m still absolutely mind-blown this actually happened to me today.

For some context, my husband and I are moving into our first home together in June. I just sold mine and closing is on Monday. Today was trash day and the last pickup I would have was this morning so my plan was to stop by the house and pick up the last few items and clean the house a bit on my way to work.

Out of pure muscle memory, I totally blanked out that it was the last trash day and pulled the trash bin into the garage and latched it in (we have a device that actually locks it to the wall because we have a golden and a Bernese who are shitheads and like knock it over and dig in the trash so this was the only way we could stop them haha). I had left the garage open because I had someone coming to pick up a bunch of furniture in the garage that afternoon and my husband was coming an hour or so after me to meet them.

Trash pickup in my neighborhood is basically run by one guy and a couple guys on his crew, and he’s a very cantankerous local good ole southern boy. He has a rebel flag and Trump flag on the back of his trash truck and looks like Farmer Fran from The Waterboy if that gives you an idea.

But, I’m a woman from California living in the south ,with two big dogs who are not particularly fond of him, so I get why he particularly didn’t like me and would always say some snarky quip or conveniently toss his lip of Copenhagen in front of my house haha.

Anyways, 10 mins down the road, I get a call from him cussing me up in a storm with in his thick drawl my southern born and raised husband couldn’t translate basically saying “go fuck yourself” for locking the trash can in your garage and yanked the whole mount off the wall.

Whatever, it was my fault and I totally forgot they were taking the can today but even though I don’t know what “a little fuckin’ hussy” actually is but I know it’s not nice haha.

Few hours later, my husband texts me “uhhh. What the fuck is on the couch in the garage???” and I respond “???”. So he FaceTimes me and there’s a MASSIVE turd on the couch right next to where the trash can was. Like, one singular log that looks like it came from a constipated bear so now way a random animal walked in there and there aren’t many neighborhood kids so I doubt it was them and if so, they need medical attention.

One of the things I took this morning was my cameras and the service was already disconnected. I know it was trash guy, but there’s no way I could ever prove he dropped that and I’m on a corner so none of my neighbors can see in the garage.

Honestly, I have no idea wtf to do, I told the people coming to buy it I needed to get it cleaned as I found a stain on it since it was basically brand new and it’s West Elm so they’re paying a fair amount and I can’t ethically justify selling a recently turd-induced couch to someone especially after it sat for a bit in the heat and humidity.

TLDR: locked my trash can in a holder in my garage when I was supposed to return it today. Cantankerous old local trash man was pissed he couldn’t get it off the wall so he broke the mount and took a massive dump on my couch I was selling in my garage.