Thursday, September 16, 2004

Shit Happens

I found out today, that shit does happen. It happened to me first thing this morning. Just as I was about to step out the door, already running behind time, with a request to drive the daughter’s boyfriend to work; I stepped in a piece of dog shit.

Sammy, the elderly pooch of the house, had an incontinence problem at some point during the night and guess who found the missing link? Yes, you’re right, it was me. I spotted two loose ones laying on the carpet, strategically placed a stride apart from one another. To prevent a mishap, I decided to quickly pick them up before leaving.

What I didn’t see was one that was camouflaged on the brown patterned wool rug. In fact, I didn’t realize I had actually stepped in one until my mom happened to walk past and step into the already flattened, fido feces with her bare feet.

"Jesus Christ, arrrrrgggggg!"

"Oh no, did you step in that shit?"

I looked towards the last lingering piece of dung, but it was still waiting to be scooped up. My eyes travelled across the floor from where my mom was standing towards my own feet and the trail of poop bits led right to my left foot.

"Damn, I don’t have time for this, Christ!"

I took my sandal off, grabbed a paper towel and carefully pushed the excrement out of each of the grooves in the bottom of my sandal.

"That’s good enough Shelly, you’re going to be late for work!"

"I don’t care, I can’t go to work smelling like shit!"

Before long, my sandal was as good as new and I was out the door. Not smiling, but out the door.

Great fucking start. I looked at daughter's BF out of the corner of my eye and tried not to place blame in his direction. It really had nothing to do with him, but that 8 minutes picking shit out of my treads wouldn’t have really mattered too much except that I still had to drive him to work.

A little while later, at a time when I should have already been at my desk…

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, I’ll have an extra large coffee with triple milk and a multi-grain bagel, toasted with cheddar cheese please."

"One extra large, triple, triple. Anything else?"

"No, that was one extra large, triple milk, no sugar, with a multi-grain bagel toasted with cheddar cheese."

"Extra large, triple - triple, extra large with triple milk, and a toasted multi-grain bagel with cheddar cheese. Anything else?"

"That’s still not right! I want only ONE coffee, with triple milk, NO SUGAR and I want ONE bagel, multi-grain, toasted with cheddar cheese."

"Drive through."

Geezus fucking christ, first I step in shit, now I have to put up with shit. I should just go home to bed, because I can tell it’s gonna be one of those days.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Sorry to do this to you, Sissy...

... but that's some funny shit!

Life with animals. What WERE we thinking? I'm having some of the same sort of issues with my geriatric cat. There is a reason most of them don't live to be his age - I think once they start developing habits that require their owners to buy a carpet cleaner, most people don't put up with it anymore.

Unluckyman said...

Often life is like stepping on dog-shit. Makes all the days you don't, better. I'm a 'glass-half-full' person.

Mick Flynn Images said...

When I was a kid we used to put dog shit in paper bags, then we put the bags on peoples front steps.

We'd set fire to the bag, knock on the door and run like hell.


If you see a flaming bag on your doorstep, DO NOT try to stamp it out

Suzy Snow said...

Welcome Mick, and I will remember that...no stamping on the flaming poo bags!