Dumpster Baby Blues

Dumpster Baby Blues

Really, I had never thought about it at all until after I found the baby in the dumpster.
I was on my way back home kind of late at night, humming "My Heart Doesn't Bleed (for you)," and mulling over various business possibilities as my cash flow was getting to be dangerously low. The hottest prospect was in distribution of nicohol, a beverage made from fermented tobacco with all the addictive and psychoactive properties of both alcohol and nicotine. Not paying much attention to my surroundings, but I started to notice what sounded like a cat crying in the low-rent apartment complex dumpster I was passing. I was in no great hurry to get back to my empty apartment (really just an unfinished basement in the warehouse district with jury-rigged bathroom and kitchen equipment I was renting cheap and with no questions asked), so I went over to the dumpster to check it out. No cat, but what appeared to be a moderately healthy newborn human was crying atop the trash in the dumpster.
There was no one around but me and the kid, so I scooped her up and took her home with me. It just seemed like the right thing to do. I don't know much about kids, but a smelly, vermin infested dumpster did not seem like a very good environment to leave her in. However, this act of good will now left me with several new problems. I mean, what was I going to do with this kid? I wasn't even doing very well in supporting myself. And it became evident right away that I would now need supplies of the diaper and baby formula (and bottles, too, I guessed) variety.
Well, I left the kid in a box in my basement and went to the all night convenience store to pick up supplies for both of us -- beer and chips for me. I realized that I would probably have to invest a hefty percentage of my dwindling resources if I intended to hold on to the kid for any length of time. This is what got me thinking. I mean, when one makes an investment, one expects some kind of return. There must be some way I could turn this liability into a profit. I let the problem settle into my subconscious (where I do my best thinking) while I diapered and fed the kid, consumed my snack, and got to bed.
The next morning I was awakened long before I was ready to the kid crying again -- who knows for how long before I was willing to concede it was not part of my dream. I changed and fed her and left her sleeping in the box while I went out to the local library to check out childcare information on the World Wide Web.
So there I am web-surfing away when my eye catches reference to a newsgroup, alt.pedophile. Well, something clicks in my good old subconscious, and I get one of those "aha" feelings, which always feels so good. So I click on to alt.pedophile and start browsing through the posts. I have found my market. Now I need to arrange for the necessary advertising -- a very delicate operation as I am aware that my proposed business venture is not in any way legal. Then again, most of my business ventures have not been overly concerned with staying within the law. I find my profit margin to be better that way. Besides, I'm the kind of a guy who likes my independence; and I'm wedded to my privacy. On my side of the law I make my own rules; and I report to nobody. So I have to find a way to advertise to my proposed client-base while maintaining my low-profile.
But then, I start thinking in earnest. Before I contact said clients, I should first have a pretty good idea of just what I am offering. Some of the posts have indicated a liking for activities which would not allow for more than a one-time use of my resource, which is not the kind of business I am looking for. However, there are certainly other activities described which would not overly harm the merchandise. And what about price? I don't want to price myself out of the market; but neither do I want to short-change myself. I am taking a considerable risk here; and that should entitle me to a good bit of profit per transaction. So it looks like I've got some planning and research to do before I can actually open for business. I mean, nothing ventured, nothing gained; but it makes sense to cover the angles.
From the information I've also gotten from the web on the care and feeding of human infants, I realize it must be time to get back to homebase and do some maintenance. I stop on the way to pick up supplies so I can bathe, dress and provide bedding for the kid along with more food and diapers. Once I've taken care of maintenance chores for both of us, I head back out to track down some former business acquaintances who may be able to help with my advertising campaign.
Well, as per usual, nothing goes smooth -- but it goes. A couple of weeks later I find myself with a going concern. To avoid invasions into my privacy, I've hit on the idea of renting cheap motel rooms in the no questions asked district, exchanging the key for my price in unmarked cash and then staking out the room from the parking lot to make sure no one tries to leave with the kid. I ask the clients to leave the key under the mat when they're done -- privacy all the way around. But I make sure they know I'll be watching them leave from an undisclosed spot and that we are all clear on the rules in terms of the condition I expect to find the kid in when they've left. So far it seems to be working out just fine. In fact, after a while, it all seems to be working out too well. Between repeat and word-of-mouth clientele, I'm getting swamped with business -- even after raising my price a couple of times. Apparently I have hit on a badly needed service.
It's time to expand. And it occurs to me that my kid in the trash was probably not a one-time fluke. So I start checking out dumpsters late at night, expanding my field of inquiry into various parts of the city. And, wouldn't you know, it pays off.
Hey, the way I figure it, I'm providing several public services all the way around. These kids had nobody and nothing; in fact, they would probably be dead and unmourned if I hadn't happened to find and rescue them, and given them a shot at a productive life. I am now
becoming an experienced child care giver; and with the bucks they're bringing in we're all able to afford the good life. The gig is easy -- they just lie there like they do anyway and let the big guys have their fun. Life is good.
I once had a girlfriend, a beautiful, smart, funny, crazy lady who was my life. Unfortunately, she was having a hard enough time being her own life, and didn't really need me along for the ride. It was a bad scene all around, and I haven't even heard of her in years. Sometimes I remember and am sad. But I really haven't got much to put into a relationship -- and mostly I like it that way.
Time passes and I pretty much stay the same. But babies do not. They grow. They gain competence in all kinds of motor skills and do not docilely stay in their boxes, or even (as we grow more upscale in our wealth) cribs. They demand more and more attention and potentially find more and more trouble to get into. Who am I to judge? But I am a low maintenance kind of guy and not into complications. Now I have a problem. These kids are great little money-makers, but with all this dough I want to buy into more of a life. I do not want to devote my time to raising kids. And I can see a whole lot more complications down the road. Nor do I know anyone I can trust to take over child care for me without a lot of questions and hassles coming my way.
As it happens, I'm jawing with some business associ-ates about my newly developing problems. This guy tells me he's got a solution that will make us all a bundle. Seems he knows this shyster who deals in private adoptions. No questions asked. I hand over the kids; he makes the deals and gives me my cut: quite a bundle indeed. And yes, there's plenty to give my connection a sizeable cut without leaving me any the worse. Who knows what kind of homes the kids go to -- what kind of folks are into paying that much for slightly used merchandise? It's not my concern. I am happily, officially out of the baby rental racket. And on, I assume, to bigger and better things. After all, I've got quite a bundle to invest, and all the time in the world to enjoy it.