It was May 2017 when I went there for the first time. My minivan was filled floor to ceiling with branches, leaves, and palm fronds. As I drove along the dusty dirt road, I thought, I’m doing it, I really doing it!

Like a kid heading to Disneyland, I knew I was in for a thrill. Sure, I wouldn’t be greeted by Mickey in his Magic Castle, but I was about to meet Hank in his cashier booth, and that’s nothing to sneeze at.

At first, I didn’t even notice Hank.

He noticed me….

I was the woman in the green minivan, who raced past him, giddy with anticipation.

I later found out this is not proper dump etiquette. Apparently, when you make a trip to the dump, you are supposed to stop at the booth, where Hank (or someone equally qualified) will assess how much trash you are dumping, and charge you accordingly.

If you’re completely clueless and blow right by the booth, a man in a white truck will chase you up the hill. Because you’re so focused on finding the signs to Green Waste, the man will have no choice but to yell on his bullhorn.  “Ma’am, please pull over!”

Your first thought will be, Good Lord, does the dump have a police department?

Relax, it’s just Bob, who’s about to explain how the dump works.

The first thing he’s going to tell you is that the dump is NOT free.

WHAT?! I bring you my best branches and I have to pay YOU?

The next thing you’ll learn is that you can’t just offer Bob some money right there and then and be on your merry way. You’re going to have to return to the entrance, get back in line, and pay your fees at the designated area.

You can sigh and plead with Bob, but Bob is a rule follower, and he’d like you to be one too.

Which brings us to Rule #3: Palm fronds are to be dumped with trash, NOT green waste. (Something about palm fronds not being biodegradable, I think?)

Who knew the dump could be so complicated.

So now that I had passed Dump 101 (I said passed, not aced), I headed back to the entrance and got in line. This is where I was introduced to Hank.

He was all smiles. “So, this is the little lady that just drove on past me.”

“Sorry about that,” I said. “That probably happens all the time.”

“Nope,” he said, but he was still smiling.

Hank and I were good.

Then he charged me $13.49.

Come on, Hank.

Regardless, I paid the money because it was policy and who I am not to respect the dump.

“Have a good day,” Hank waved as I drove away.

Oh I will!

And I did.

The dump was as expected. Mountains of garbage set against a grey, hazy sky, while birds nosedived into trash. It was just the right amount of ominous.  As I unloaded piles of palm fronds, I half expected to see Law & Order detectives combing the trash for crucial clues in order to solve their latest homicide. (Spoiler alert: Not one detective showed up.)

That’s okay. The eerie atmosphere, a successful discarding of waste, an enlightened knowledge of dump procedure, and good times with Hank and Bob made it all worth it.

Maybe not Disneyland, but still pretty magical.