New rooftops appear on the Eastside faster than almost anywhere in El Paso — stretching from the retail hub anchored by Cielo Vista and Bassett Place, on through Montwood and Zaragoza, out to the still-filling blocks near Pebble Hills — and that growth keeps a steady share of our route out this way.
Construction on the Eastside runs about half a year ahead of the junk it eventually creates — once a family actually settles into a new build, we're the ones taking away the bunk bed the kids outgrew, the old TV stand after someone mounts a flat screen, and stack after stack of flattened moving boxes. Close to the major retail strips, flipping a rental between tenants keeps us just as busy: a property manager might give us only hours' warning that someone new is moving in, and everything the outgoing renter couldn't be bothered to take has to disappear before they do. The city's alley and curbside pickup out here was built for a much smaller population, so when a two-car garage needs emptying in a single pass, there's no realistic way to wait on the regular route — we just load it ourselves and it's gone that same day. Fort Bliss shapes a lot of this work too: a PCS order comes with a fixed report date, and a house has to be stripped to bare rooms and cleaned before that date or the deposit doesn't come back, so our schedule bends around the Army's timeline more than our own. Jobs get priced by how much truck space they fill, never by the clock, and scrap metal and old electronics always go to a recycler rather than a landfill.