I didn't know Colleen when I decided to start this project. In fact, I'd been saving my aluminum cans for another man whom I had met about a week prior. I left him a note on top of a bunch of cans, duck-taped down with marker attached so he could write his contact information. In order to gather this entire trash bin of cans I actually got help from my neighbors because Sarah and I just can't drink that much beer. My letter to the can man read, "Hello, We met last Saturday morning and I said I would leave you some cans. I think what you are doing is great and I would love to interview you for a class. Please contact me @ 419-308-1227 or leave a way that I can contact you. Thanks! -Sarah." 
The next day the cans were gone; so was my note and marker. I wasn't too thrilled. Disappointed and a little pissed off, I walked back into my house, only to notice my note (with the marker attached) taped off to the side of the door. In the bottom corner I saw that someone named "Colleem" had left a contact number.
I was a bit nervous to call Colleem. But I knew I needed to make the call, so I did. And I got a wrong number message. So I tried again. And again. And that same message was my only response. That same feeling I had when I thought the can person took my note and marker started to come back.
I had been punked by the can person.
2 comments:
Getting punked by the can man sounds like no fun. I think your blog could turn into stalking the can man rather than learning about the can-collecting phenomenon. How about: "I think I Can Stalk a Can Man" ? I like that you left him presents (cans). Nice.
You may also want to consider linking to The Post's latest article titled, "Recycling for Profit" as it is about a couple that seem to live the same sort of life that your "can man" does. I'd be curious to hear what you thought of the article. As the article points out, this community has multiple "can mans" or "can womans" as the case may be. What is this saying about the amount of cans this community produces?
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