Is this another tale of me dealing with zombie shit? Mostly, yes.
I walked out of the alley door and hit a homeless guy that just pinched off a healthy turd. He said
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!"
in a "Hey, don't open the door, I'm shitting here, how dare you" sort of way. Once I realized what he was doing, I responded with,
"Don't 'whoa whoa' me, motherfucker! What the fuck do you think you're doing? People live here. You can't just go doing that!..."
In my rage of yelling at him, I didn't think to tell him to pick it up because I've picked it up all these other times. I guess I've never caught one, so I didn't know what to do.
He runs away and I have to deal with this sloppy, nose burning pile of crap.
I just take a hose and start hosing it away. Thinking I was doing this without having to go near it and physically picking it up. WRONG MOVE.
While thinking I was hosing away the poop, I was actually spraying shit water into the hallway in the building. I thought the door entrance was sealed that water wouldn't go in. I was wrong. I come to find out that the hallway is filled with brown shit water and it's stinking up the whole first floor.
So instead of cleaning it away, I created more of a mess. I then spent the next hour mopping shit water and pouring bleach everywhere, which in turn, splashed all over my favorite jeans.
Now when I wear these jeans, I see the bleach splatters and get annoyed. There's also a sense memory of that putrid shit. We have no idea what homeless people eat. Ugh god, I can't talk about this anymore.
__________________________
Moving on to a palate cleanser story that includes animals:
*ring ring*
(the voice is a gentle-sounding 45-year old man)
"Hey Mapple. Can you go into my unit and check on my cat?"
"Why?"
"It's just that I usually see my cat before I leave for work, and I didn't see him, so I'm concerned that he got himself stuck in the kitchen cabinet. If you can open the cabinet. I'll tip you for it."
"I'll do this, but I'm considering it a lockout, which is $20."
"TWENTY DOLLARS! Just open the door and check! This is my cat we're talking about. If you can't find him in the house, then he's probably stuck in the cabinet. Besides, you're going to thank me because he is a beautiful cat. You'll see. You'll want to pay me to see this cat. He's gorgeous."
"I'm actually allergic to cats, so I doubt that. But fine, I'll go check."
I went to his place, opened the door, and a fucking cat was standing there staring at me. I instantly rolled my eyes and shut the door. It looked like a gray cat. Clearly, it's a dumbass cat that gets stuck in the kitchen cabinets. Maybe you should leave him there so he can learn his lesson. He also never 'tipped' me for it. I hate this motherfucker, and god, I hate cats.
4 comments:
Maple,
More Pigeon stories please. She is a mess.
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