Love in a Dumpster

According to today's NY Post, a couple was robbed while having sex in a Dumpster. Before we can begin to dissect this, for those of you not in the know, a couple of facts.

The NY Post is owned by Rupert Murdoch, which makes it part of the Fox right-wing conspiracy in some circles. It's not really known for high standards of journalism. When the ACORN brothel scandal broke, the Post made sure to have a picture of the girl dressed in her phony-hooker finery. The paper is written at a sixth-grade reading level, and in between the anti-Obama, pro-Iraq War screeds is a healthy helping of this kind of salacious story. Which is precisely why I read the NY Post.

Next, and I'm certain many of you did not know this, but when you write the word for the giant metal box in which you throw your garbage and dispose of your corpses, you must capitalize it. It's "Dumpster" not "dumpster." I'm not entirely sure why; I believe it's the same reason you must capitalize Gatorade and Band-aids and Coca-Cola -- it's a proper name. I've sometimes wondered if it's actually named after someone, like William Dumpster. In which case, I'm sure his mother is proud he invented the damn thing.

Now, on to the heart of the story... If you recall, a couple was robbed, at knife point, while they were having sex in a Dumpster. This occurred in Witchita KS, which surprises me because you'd think with the high number of discarded babies found in Dumpsters, and mob soldiers found in Dumpsters, this event would have occurred in good ole NYC. But no, Kansas it is.

How horny do you have to be to have sex in a Dumpster? You know how it is; you're at a club, and you meet Ms. Right (or Ms. Right Now), and you just gotta get your groove on. The stalls in the bathroom are full of people already having sex (or snorting coke -- wait, this is Kansas, so they're doing crystal meth). You can't go to your car, because you don't want to mess up your upholstery. And you can't stand to drive to a Motel 6, because, you know, you gotta have it right now.

So you propose the Dumpster. Now, was this thing full or empty at the time? This question oddly consumes me. Because it makes a big difference -- the one between fucking on a pile of smelly garbage, or fucking in an uncomfortably hard metal box. I'm not sure which I'd prefer.

How do you talk your impending sex partner to have sex in a Dumpster, anyway? "Hey baby, I really have to have you right now; you're so beautiful and I love you so much. Let's fuck in this Dumpster..." What amazes me is the other person agreed to this, instead of suggesting the back seat of the car or the aforementioned sex in the bathroom. Somehow, this whole Dumpster thing seemed like a good, viable option to them. Both individuals were 44-years old, so you'd think they'd know better.

Then, along comes two guys with knives to ruin what was, I'm sure, was a romantic moment. Or screwing in a Dumpster. I have a funny feeling these men were two homeless guys who were simply rooting around for food in Dumpsters and when they stumbled upon the couple they thought "ew!" But then they thought "opportunity." So they robbed the couple of their shoes, jewelry, and wallets.

(All of this has gotten me to thinking about the strangest place I've ever had sex. It was Toledo, Ohio. That's all. No phone booth. No airplane bathroom. No map room at the local library. Just, plain, old Toledo. Period. End of sentence.)

Thankfully, these criminal masterminds were apprehended soon afterwards, and the couple's property was returned to them. No idea if the sex-in-Dumpster-couple was given a citation for indescent exposure (or monumental stupidity).