I was watching this ancient dog cross the street today while I was waiting in traffic for the light to change. He had a red clown nose and tongue that fell out of the side of his mouth and flapped around, and his legs worked independently of one another, which made him look like he was doing the charleston. He was with an old man and an old woman, both stooped and in big flannel shirts. Boy was he having a good time. So good, in fact, that he stopped to take a shit right in front of my car, right when the light turned green.
As the old woman bent down to pick it up (cars honking like crazy), I thought how much like my life is hers. The only thing that would make it more so is if she fell over while picking up the shit, and then her boyfriend fell over her. Also, if her old boss came running into traffic and stole the money that had flown out of her old-man chinos, picked her iPhone up off the pavement, and started reading her email.
OK, that’s going too far. The only thing that’s true about this story is the dog and the shit (and the boss). My car was parked at a meter for fifty cents a minute so that I could go into the floor store to get some linoleum to protect the place in front of Julia’s shrine where Scout likes to pee and poop every chance he gets.