I lived in an apartment building in Austin where people would throw half-smoked joints into the trash compactor. First two, maybe three times, i would head out to the fire line in my pajamas, with a shivering Chihuahua in tow. After the fourth alarm, I just stood out on the balcony, due to the eyeball quivering alarm, and wait until i smelled actual smoke.

Bonus, there was a Koi pond under my balcony, so evacuation was a well timed jump away.

Fuck you of you dispose of anything alight into a community trash receptacle…