As children, one of my cousins and I were avid dumpster divers. We had rooms filled with other people's junk we'd collected with the frequent comment, "How could they have thrown this away?"
At some point the lure of good garbage was surpassed by pride and I could no longer dive into anyone else's dumpster. This is not to say that I haven't thought about, because I have; I'm just too good (in my own mind) to lower myself into a dumpster (or even snag some perfectly acceptable piece of rubble from the top of the pile).
This morning, however, I once again contributed to that great past time by donating my own junk to the heap. I rolled out my office chair and placed it next to the dumpster this morning as I headed out for an oil change. The chair had seen better days. The leather was marked by a thousand cat claws. The seat was formed down to the shape of my butt. Alas, I would have kept it but at some point it started to cause me a great deal of back pain to sit in it.
Two hours after I'd deposited the chair next to the dumpster it had be replaced with someone else's chair. This one was smaller, cloth covered and with less sturdy casters and arms. Someone had traded up at the dumpster exchange. Only a few hours later, that chair too was gone. It was claimed, I'm sure, with an exclamation, "How could someone throw this away?"