We had an old mattress. Well, not super-old, but it had been moved many times and was worse for wear, and we have a newer one for our bed. Since our guest room is now Nathan’s room, we decided to take down the bed frame and toss the mattress. Steve and I strapped it to the luggage rack of the Forester and I set off to the dump, a scant mile or so away. I drove slowly and carefully. Well, not slowly and carefully enough, since the mattress blew off the roof about 1/4 mile from the dump. So, there I was, alone, with a mattress on the street that needed to get back to the roof of my SUV. After some struggling and realizing that I wasn’t going to find some heretofore unknown superhero strength, I decided to put the mattress up on the curb and continue to the dump to see if someone could help me.
I stood in line some ten minutes or so, then I explained my predicament to the nice gal at the desk and told her that I would pay the pickup charge if only someone would come get the mattress off of the side of the road. She looked skeptical, but called the dispatch guy to see what to do. The nice man said that someone would go up to get it, and she needn’t charge me for any more than the normal mattress charge. I paid and set off on my way.
When I passed by the spot on my way home, the mattress was already gone. Either the dump employees were lightning quick, or someone already picked it up and all my worry was for naught.