I’ve lived in New York before (2002, 2004), but moved here again most recently in 2009 allured by the prospect of an apartment in Sheepshead Bay, near Coney Island. It was the former apartment of my uncle’s mother who passed away early last year. The apartment was empty and in need of a tenant.

My uncle’s brother quoted rent prices to me of “$500 per month” and “free.” I was living in San Francisco at the time, but both of those prices sounded very very right. Within two weeks I had given notice at my corporate marketing job, and two weeks later I had landed in Brooklyn with all of my worldly possessions in four boxes and a list of friends’ couches to crash on until the Coney Island apartment was renovated and ready for tenants.

Recent news about the City of Fire, however, leaves me feeling glad that that apartment has never worked out.

According to the New York Daily News, litter and garbage are piling up all over Coney Island. The turnout for the rides, sun, water, and fun attractions over Memorial Day weekend was so high that the Parks Department decided to remove all the garbage cans throughout the area so that people might traffic more freely.

But people still have garbage, and without garbage cans they’ve resorted to: tossing it on the ground. Coney Island now resembles the scene of a cyclone—not the famous roller coaster or the baseball team, but the kind that Dorothy knows and fears.

Trash cans are set to return within the next week when needed renovations are completed. Let’s hope they come through!