The food poisoning has not gotten better…at all.
But there are clothes to be washed, a dog to be walked, and Erie analysis to be relearned.
Now I usually look proper. Not slovenly, not stinky, etc. But I figured that it was okay to look a hot mess for at least one day since I’ve been studying civpro with a stomach1 verging on 1.5.
So, I’m in the stairwell, wrestling Harley in one hand, and carrying a fist full of stinky socks that I wanted to add to the laundry…and of course I run into Mr. Big.
Mr. Big is the smooth upstairs neighbor. Think Hugh Jackman with a deep Barry White voice. Oh my goodness… Mr. Big also has a pissy boxer dog, who I call Bitch Boxer, or BeeBee.
Mr. Big was walking BeeBee so, BeeBee and Harley had to do the obligatory crotch inspection. Mr. Big started talking when Beebee was all up in Harley’s nether regions:
Mr. Big: “Has your dog gotten any bigger?”
Me: “Oh, he’s filled out but he’s full grown.”
Mr. Big: “Oh, I thought you said3 he was going to get much bigger…”
Me: “Oh…erm… well he was underweight when I got him, but I want him to get obese so…”
Just then BeeBee completely snapped4 at Harley and almost bit his face off. Harley bounced back, and Mr. Big and I were both shouting at our dogs and attempting to pass each other in the stairwell. It felt like a bar brawl and ended with Harley and I tumbling down the stairs….
On the continuum of “bad interactions with hot neighbors” this was somewhere in between inappropriate hallway flatulence and my dog mauling the neighbor… but at least I didn’t drop any dirty socks!
1 Oh yes, I went there…but it’s part of the story.
2 As Kimora Lee Simmons always says, “Dress like you’re going to meet your worst enemy.”
3 Apparently Mr. Big remembered my description of American Mastiffs… which Harley isn’t…oops.
4 Out of the 100 or so dogs he’s met, I’ve never seen him snap back at a dog. Beebee is special.
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