Do you want to be my neighbor?

I had a slow start the other morning (i.e, I was running late). I legged it over to the friendly neighborhood bus stop, and luckily there were three buses there. Unluckily, all three bus drivers were taking their tea break.
As I got closer to the waiting area, which they redid recently at great expense and inconvenience--and neglected to replace the bench which the old biddies aren't happy about--I noticed the rubbish bin.

What you cannot see is the smoke that was billowing out of it. I just shook my head at the sight and smell of the bin (it reminded me of camping fires, not that I am an expert), then took a photo.
When one of the bus drivers finished his break and let the waiting passengers on the bus, he was laughing at me. The others had chosen to wait more upwind of the bin, while I was under the new shelter since it was raining and I was also trying to keep an eye out for a taxi.
The bus took me about halfway to my final destination so I started walking and trying to flag down a taxi at the same time. I shook my little fists at one driver who drove by in an empty taxi when he dismissively waved me off. I had almost made it to the hospital by the time I finally got a taxi.
Then I made the mistake of talking to the old dear volunteering at the reception desk since she was free. I should have waited for the more efficient looking receptionist. Old dear directed me to the wrong waiting room, later walked by me while I was sitting there and just smiled sweetly at me. Eventually, I ended up in the correct place where they had apparently called my name seven times looking for me. Or so I was told.
After my minor outpatient stitches, I toddled off to the hospital canteen. The coffee there was horrible so I headed back on foot toward my friendly Italian restaurant. No more joe maxis for me. On principle.