A while ago I mentioned that my friend Aaron is a better person than I'll ever be because he religiously carries around a plastic baggy to clean up his dog's crap.
"But it's all warm and gooey," I whined.
"Yeah, but how would you feel if you stepped in it?" He challenged.
In my mind, I thought that I'd rather someone else step in it than have to pick it up.
Today karma bit me in the ass. Who even knew that karma paid you back for your thoughts? I mean, I'd totally understand if I actually had a dog whose poop I failed to pick up, but punishment for the hypothetical is uncalled for.
So yeah, on my way to work this morning, in my nice leather shoes, I slipped into some mushy, soft stools. As I scraped my shoes on the sidewalk, I thought about what I would do to the dog owner had I seen him leave it there, in the middle of the street, no less. First, I thought I'd pick it up with my bare hands and throw it at him, whilst yelling some derogatory phrases and childish putdowns about him and his mom. Then I realized that this method would involve me picking up shit with my bare hands. So I moved onto a fantasy wherein I pick the shit up with a leaf and do the same. Finally, I envisioned picking it up with a leaf, running ahead of the perpetrator and putting it under his next step. I would then turn around, say nothing and assume he or she got the point.
As I walked further down my block, I saw the soup kitchen for the homeless and realized something pretty disturbing: