Jay Miller, Greensville
I’ve had the “pleasure” of going to the Dundas Transfer Station three times in the past few weeks. Every time it has been an experience. The first time, the guy supervising me tossed my garbage into the bin as he loudly ranted and raved about the political system. I couldn’t unload my truck fast enough to get out of there.
On the next trip, it was a very hot and humid day and I just happy to get out quickly. It cost less than $20. But when I got home, I checked the receipt. Hmm…tipping fee $15.50, amount tendered $20, change $4. OK, I use old school math, but $20 minus $15.50 should be $4.50. So where’s my 50 cents? Maybe half a buck is nothing to some people, but today that’s one-third of a litre of gas for my truck (which I burned waiting for the gates to go up and down). More on that later.
On Day 3, after tossing my garbage into the bin, I went to the checkout. I was second in line. After three minutes I turned off my truck, talked to the guy ahead, then walked to the booth. No one is there, though a sign says, “Back in five minutes.” Time passes; another person is stuck in the line. Twelve minutes later, for a total of 15 minutes, the security clerk waltzes back. That’s a quarter of an hour three people had to wait to get service. Surely the City of Hamilton can afford to have someone cover the gate while nature’s call has to be answered.
Back to my second trip to the transfer station. I respectfully request the city issue me a cheque for 50 cents. That’s what I am owed as that’s what they took from me.
I’m not holding my breath though…