Dog Poop Pusher »
Here's a short story I'm sharing to get these stories started. It began with Melissa, April, and I walking to eat at this little British place down the street. First, you have to understand that I'm something of a professional when it comes to walking. It's second nature for me to just space out while strolling long distances and avoid collisions ... well, aside from the time a car hit me on the crosswalk.
Anyway, we approached a pile of dog poop on the sidewalk (a common occurance in Redmond I assure you, people here are pretty dang lazy) and I wasn't looking down. I was just yammering on while the doggy doom came ever nearer to my feet. Missy thought she'd save me from a seeming inevitable fate and gave me a shove.
I hit it anyway, square on by her precise push. Apparently it was intended to move me beyond the danger zone rather than squelch into the treads of my sneakers. I still maintain my own internal guidance system would have taken me safely over or around the gooey lumps, instead I endured the embarassment of wandering into a restaraunt smelling like poop.
Anyway, we approached a pile of dog poop on the sidewalk (a common occurance in Redmond I assure you, people here are pretty dang lazy) and I wasn't looking down. I was just yammering on while the doggy doom came ever nearer to my feet. Missy thought she'd save me from a seeming inevitable fate and gave me a shove.
"Look out for that!"
Ssqqqrrcchchhh!!
I hit it anyway, square on by her precise push. Apparently it was intended to move me beyond the danger zone rather than squelch into the treads of my sneakers. I still maintain my own internal guidance system would have taken me safely over or around the gooey lumps, instead I endured the embarassment of wandering into a restaraunt smelling like poop.
