Possum had a deal with the maintenance guys in a couple of the neighbourhood’s new condo buildings. He’d get to go through the recycling containers first. All he had to do was bring them out and clean up after. Much easier than walking the streets all night, rifling through the residential and public cans just to find someone had already cleaned them out.
Once, some punk pulled a knife. Almost stabbed him. For seventy cents worth glass.
He’d usually make about fifteen bucks from each building. He’d buy some sandwiches and stop in at the mission to hand them out.