There was a time when Jason Hyde was seen taking bags of trash out of his trunk and placing them in the bin at his job. He has his reasons.

“People were laughing at me and thinking I was a lunatic,” said Hyde, who lives near Butchers Hill. “But I was like, ‘I got no trash can! Somebody stole it!’”

There are things we expect living in the city, like a lack of parking and tire-chomping potholes. But we never signed up to lug bloated bags and boxes to the curb to find our government-issued bins missing in action.

We’re trying to keep this city as clean and beautiful as we can, but it’s hard without the actual cans. Stop stealing people’s stuff. Y’all know better.

“It was like a shell game,” said Hyde, who’s had between eight and 10 blue trash or green recycling bins roll away in the last four years. “It is kind of frustrating. I need a trash can!”

It’s hard to say exactly why the receptacles go missing. I spoke to several residents who’ve had their various refuse bins go bye-bye. Some blame porch pirates who use them as free wheeled vessels as they snatch packages and keep moving. But others say it’s a combination of unmarked cans mistakenly put in front of the wrong homes, or even construction crews borrowing and never returning them.

Kofi Heard has not only had recycling bins go missing from behind his Remington home, but one actually melted after the house across the alley caught fire. Nearly a year later, he’s called for a replacement but still hasn’t gotten one — “unless someone stole that, too.”

Department of Public Works spokesperson Mary Stewart said trash and recycling containers may be misplaced or stolen, “particularly when left in public spaces,” and are sometimes found nearby after being reported as lost. I will say that some residents don’t have secure or convenient places to store those bins between collection days. For instance, my only outdoor space is a gated courtyard that opens into an alley, not an easy or super safe space to lug giant cans, especially in the dark. So sometimes I leave them out against my house — and they’ve gone missing twice.

Yes, I know.

Stewart added that while the city is committed to making sure everyone has the proper bins, getting a new one is a process. You have to report it to 311 and complete an accompanying request form within 10 days. If the form isn’t done in time, the request is closed.

Between March 1, 2025, and last Thursday, a total of 10,652 requests for new green or blue bins were submitted through 311, with 3,381 replaced.

City officials say some of the delays are beyond their control.

“Over the past several years, DPW has faced challenges in the private supply market, including manufacturing delays and material shortages,” Stewart said.

I have found myself on occasion awkwardly inspecting other people’s cans to make sure they weren’t my missing one. I probably looked like a thief myself.

I also once bought my own new trash can from a local hardware store after the city took too long. While I appreciate a free bin from the city, a free bin I don’t have is no bin at all.

Most of us live in Baltimore because we want to, but boy, is this frustrating.

“Not to dump on Baltimore or Mayor Scott, because I rep for Baltimore heavy, but I have called 311 and they say something’s on the way. Did something show and it was taken?” said Heard, who, in the absence of a blue bin, has started putting his recycling in neatly stacked brown paper bags inside his trash cans. “I don’t want to spend money on a new one, because if that gets stolen? I’m gonna be hot. I’m trying to manage my stress.”

Some Baltimoreans are more understanding about the disappearances. Frederick Satchell noticed his can missing behind his Station North building but figured either a contractor borrowed it or it was misplaced after the trash was collected. “By the time the next week rolled around, my trash can was back where it belongs,” he said.

As bewildering as this is, we don’t want to live anywhere else. “The city is great enough,” Heard said.

Hyde is still frustrated by the process of getting a new can. “A part of me knows that it’s wrong, and someone should do XYZ,” he said, but he has come to something close to acceptance. ”The other part of me — now that I’m older and living in the city — what am I gonna do?”