Faster, Faster, Don't Stop Now

Hell's Kitchen

I love when reality TV actually finally delivers on something more dramatic than the domestic disturbance going on next door. (Just let me say - at least they've been kicked out now. I so wasn't dealing well with their screaming last night. Or the random banging.)

( The third to last cut is the deepest )

Let's see. How to start the day with joy and happiness: a beret! A very French beret that makes one feel jaunty and peppy.

How to then take away that good mood: neighbor who one has seen less than ten times since moving into the new apartment goes to take out her garbage, sees you walking back into your apartment from taking the dog for a morning walk, and stops to ask "Are you aware that you're supposed to pick up after your dog?"

WTF?

I mean, just...if she'd caught me letting my dog poop and not picking up after him, that would be one thing. But I was walking *into* my apartment. I have seen folks let their dogs poop and not pick up after them. I have read the rules ad infinitum (because there's a clause that says if you take your dog to the wooded area, it's not necessary to pick up after it because 1. the wooded area does not get walked through, 2. it's not near apartments and 3. due to the terrain of the wooded area and the slope, they don't want folks walking in there) and occassionally take my dog to an area where I don't have to pick up after him, but I bought this nifty thingie for my leash that clips onto the handle and dispenses poop scooping bags.

Of course all I could do was stare at her in shock and say "Yeah." Because what do you say (before morning caffeine) to someone you've said a passing hello to and joked about the dogs (she has one that is fierce - but hey, she keeps a reign on him and I'm aware that not all dogs get along, so no biggie) suddenly basically accuses you of breaking the rules out of the blue?

Although...I wonder if she's seen Chester tied out behind my apartment. She lives in the building beside mine, and if she's in a back apartment she might look out and see Chester wandering on his tether. Every once in a blue moon he poops (rarely, though, because he hates being near poop and doesn't want it in "his area"). To run out to the dumpster, I then have to get dressed in more than just the clothes I put on when getting home. Hmmmm. I bet you she didn't see me immediately run out and pick up his poop once and assumes I'm breaking the rules. I generally wait until he's ready to come in, because I don't like leaving sight of him while he's on the patio.