Friday, March 30, 2007

Birthday

Yesterday, I was born a curmudgeon. Reborn actually; since I've already spent slightly more than half a century developing all the tools that the modern curmudgeon needs to do his work- the bristly eyebrows, Nixon-like flapping jowls, that not-quite-obese spare tire that would go well with a checkered shirt and oddball bow-tie, if I could stand to wear a tie. And of course, the New York City Perpetual Scowl.

I haven't lived here all that long- maybe three years so far. Coming from a small town in Pennsylvania, I never needed to Perpetually Scowl very often, so my scowl muscles were poorly developed. They're ripped now, baby. It's like I have a scowl-sixpack on my face. To fit in with everyone else, of course. To see me walking down the street, you'd never guess I was not a born and bred native New Yorker.

"Walking down the street" will be my first Curmudgeonly Comment. I walk to work every day. Well, whenever I feel like it and if it's not too cold. Or rainy. Or hot. I like to look and smile at the attractive women of a certain age as we're passing on the sidewalk. Not that they ever look back, of course, but that will be a Curmudgeonly Comment for another day. No, my friends, today's subject concerns Dog Poop. Not just the regular poop you might see here and there on the sidewalk, but the special poop that you see only on Monday mornings. At least on the UES.



I have this theory, see- it's not so bad on weekdays because on weekdays, wealthy people are much too busy to walk their dogs. They have their domestics do it. And from what little I know about them, domestics as a class of people are generally decent folks just like the rest of us. Only a bit more haggard and whole lot more weary. Anyway, they will pick up their Master's doggy's bowel movements because you're s'posed to do that, for the common good. But on weekends, wealthy people need to be seen walking their Pomerpoodleshit-zhu's so those attractive women of a certain age will have a reason to smile back. Not that you ever need a special reason to smile at someone who is obviously wealthy. I'm strongly suspicious, however, that not all of these wealthy animal lovers actually bend down with their inside-out baggie and pick up the steaming pile for disposal. I mean, eeeuwwww, that's gross! So- my Monday morning walk to work can seem like navigating the Ho Chi Minh trail. If you're old enough to remember how shitty that was.

3 Comments:

Blogger reenee said...

Are you in a parallel universe one year ahead of us? Just asking.

9:44 PM  
Blogger Curmudgeon said...

Well, parallel universe I may be in... but the dating is just a way to force chronological order to my posts (they make slightly more sense that way).

10:13 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Did you notice all of your blog posts are dated 2007?

4:03 PM  

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