The swap meets around here, a story

We lived behind a movie rental store. By behind, I mean about a fourth of a mile back; our driveway ran between the store and a barbeque restaurant. We were in the middle of town but still had land, a stock pond. My sister used to pay us a quarter to hike up the road to buy her a coke from the machine. We thought it was the best thing, a quarter for doing nothing, and eventually the barbeque owners offered us a dollar to fill a trash bag with cigarette butts. Every day, off the school bus, they'd give us the 55-gallon trash bags. We gleaned their whole parking lot, but you can't fill those up. They'd give us maybe half a dollar each. Then they started giving us Wal-mart bags, which we'd fill with cigarette butts and old bottles, any trash. We finally figured out to just go behind the building and fill our bags from the dumpster. We were bad kids. We were normal kids.