A one and a two...

There is not a lot of leeway when I pull the car out of the garage. The garage itself is quite narrow and then there's this concrete pillar to be navigated. All in all, it's pretty much a straight shot or nothing.  Once I get far enough out to leave space in the front for people to pass by on the sidewalk, without leaving so much space that a passing MUNI bus shears off my rear bumper, I stop, get out, and go close the garage door. We're old fashioned around here.

It was during this getting out bit a few days back, that I nearly soiled my shoe. Someone had taken enough care to scoop their dog's poop, but then, possibly in a moment of self-congratulatory glee, tossed the bag of poop into the gutter.  How else did it get there? 

Having unwillingly conducted a field study, I can tell you that once you have run over a bag of shit with your car, there is not much to be done about it. There can be no tidying up unless you have access to a power washer and, even then, there is a drought.  Of course, due to the very specific trajectory of my car twice a day, I run over this same shit over and over again and can say with certainty that it is not an experience that grows more enjoyable with repetition. Who just throws a bag of shit into the street? I ask.  What is WRONG with people?

This morning, as I do five mornings a week, I headed out to go to work and found that telltale sticky stains along the driveway.  Once again, someone has peed copiously against my garage.

Perhaps he felt I was looking for a complete set.