The Icepick Cometh

We're walking on a side street and a man comes out of a house carrying a garbage bag. We walk together, the three of us, me and the Baby on one side of the street, the stranger on the other. At the end of the block, the man doesn't hesitate, and without a hint of shame or self-awareness, drops the bag of household garbage into a city garbage pail in the bright early evening daylight and walks on.

This wasn't a refugee from the student-ghetto or someone you might reasonably assume doesn't give a shit; this was a 60ish white guy with a flat-top haircut and thick dark glasses coming out of a fairly well-kept home on a residential side street, someone who should know better.