One Man's Garbage Is Another Man's......

Did I ever tell you my first job in high school was working at The Salvation Army Thrift Store? I probably didn't, because for the longest time it was not something I was proud of. Truth be told I hated it. It started out cutting up the countless boxes that were accumulated and dumping them once a week. Then I progressed to being the driving assistant, which meant I accompanied my dad on furniture pick ups for the store and made sure he didn't kill himself picking up greasy stoves or dirty couches all by himself. Sorry dad, we know its true.

Then I became the store worker on Saturdays. So, every Saturday, you'd find me at the Thrift Store from 9-5. While I didn't like it, it was a safe job (as I didn't have to work at the cannery with sharp knives. If I shot myself with the tagging gun more than ten times I can't imagine how many digits I would have lost cutting fish 8-9 hours a day). Plus, one advantage of that job was that I was able to pay for my DVD obsession (2-4 per week) and my McDonald's Big Mac accompanied with my Taco Time Crispy Burrito at lunch time, as well as my pre-dinner 10 piece chicken nuggets. I gained a lot of experience from that store. Much I'm proud of, and some I'm not. For example, at our thrift store in town that I man, people occasionally come up to me to ask me if a button shirt is a man's or woman's shirt. I explain to them matter of factly that women's shirt buttons are on the left side while the men's are on the right, and women's sleeves are usually cut in a much slimmer manner. They look at me, mouths wide open in shock and say one of two things "Wow I didn't know that. How cool that you do. Why do they do that?" OR "That's really something a man is supposed to know. Why do they do that?" If the person asking the question is a male or female I know well enough to joke with I tell them this is a reminder that men are always right.

If there's one thing I've always disliked working at a thrift store, its sorting the donations. The old saying isn't always true, one man's garbage is not another man's treasure. People give for one of three reasons. 1) They don't want an item but know its good enough to be used and enjoyed by someone else. 2)They don't want an item but can't picture it being thrown away. 3)They don't want an item and don't want to pay to get rid of it themselves. Since these reasons are always mixed together, when you open a Thrift Store bag of donations, "You never know what you're gonna get." I've been cut by glass, poked by knives, grabbed dirty diapers (honestly why donate a used diaper, you can't say your motives were altruistic), and among other things been bitten by bugs and pulled out rodents both dead and alive. Oh yeah, I've also pulled out very nice clothing and toys and other good stuff, but you pretty much only remember the things that make you bleed and gross you out.

Today was an all time high when it came to sorting. Because I was sick last week and unable to open the store, my entire porch was covered with donations that had been gone through and unpacked and rained on, so it was all ruined. As I threw everything away that wasn't contained in a closed plastic bag, I came upon five boxes of something that we love having at our store. Canning jars.

Only in Alaska have I seen Mason jars used for canning salmon and other fish, jams and jellies, fruits and veggies and other food items AND also being used for drinking glasses. I haven't seen it anywhere else but this state, and most houses here I have been to have at least one. There was about five dozen canning jars sitting on our porch. These items I'm glad to take, they are easy to sort and don't stay in the store long at fifty cents each.

When I moved the canning jar boxes inside, what was once the top box became the bottom box as I restacked them. So I went through four boxes and every single jar was in good shape, an easy sort. Then came the nefarious (word of the day tp, you should try it, makes you sound smart, until you tell people you learned that word in the can) fifth and final box, that box that used to be on top.Quite normally, as I opened this box, there was a smell that came from it. Happens all the time. It wasn't bad enough not to keep going so I began pulling the jars out of the box. That was when I noticed two of the jars were in the box mouth up towards the sky as opposed to being towards the bottom like they usually are. I thought nothing of it but continued to pull jars out to check for cracks and chips and cleanliness.

The last two jars, the one's placed mouth towards the sky, had water in them. At least, that's what I thought at first. The liquid was quite yellowish in color and as I looked at and processed the color liquid in my mind suddenly my mind remembered what that smell was in the box. Urine. Someone had decided that they would rather relieve themself in the canning jars placed on the porch of The Salvation Army Thrift Store than walk five feet away to do it in the bushes or near a tree or behind the building. I was holding two canning jars with someone's "waste" in it. That....was.......disgusting.

I ran outside, dumped the cans, regained my composure and walked back inside. I didn't think about the next step right away and placed the two empty jars on the counter and reached below the counter to grab a bag to put them in and throw them out. There's no way I'm putting those things on my shelves, eck. When I had my bag and came up from the counter, there was a couple eyeballing the jars, asking what the price was and how many more they could buy. I explained to them that I'm not selling those two jars because they're yucky and they asked what I meant by that.

The only thing I could think of was, "Well I guess the best way for me to explain it is to say that one man's garbage is another man's urinal." They got the message, and bought 12 of the other ones instead, which I told them were clean when I pulled them in. I guess its true, that every day is an adventure, and sometimes a dirty one. At the end of the day, when I feel dirty or grossed out, tired or exhausted, at least I know who I'm working for and why I do what I do, to serve with a heart to God and a hand to man, and it makes it worth it. But an extra shower helps too.BLT says.....if you walk in my store and I'm sorting and wearing gloves, its probably not because I'm cold. Also, I don't think I'll ever be able to watch another person drink out of a canning jar again.