My dog peed on your bag Monday afternoon, can we have coffee? - w4m
So, naturally I was thrilled. Sara and I were great friends but we'd since lost touch. Perhaps you remember her too: dark red peacoat, jeans, curly brown hair, black hat with pompom. We immediately launched into a conversation reminiscing about our "crazy" days at school, blah blah blah...all this is irrelevant to you but I must stress that it's vital to understanding what happened next. You see, I was very enmeshed in this conversation and so I did not notice that my dog had stopped to pee on your bag. Sara, in fact, had to point it out to me.
I was mortified, but apparently you didn't notice because you were sitting there listening to your iPod, smoking, and reading what looked like Utne Reader. Your bag was on the ground beside you. Your obliviousness put me in a very compromising position--I thought about just fleeing the scene, but no, I did the noble thing and tapped you on the shoulder to let you know the events which had just transpired.
Believe me, it was not easy. Especially because when you looked up, I saw that you are incredibly cute. Dark brown hair, wire-rimmed glasses, five o'clock shadow, gray wool coat. So I had to force myself to try and be cool and let you know about the dog piss on your bag.
You looked really, really annoyed, and I can't blame you, but I just have to say your bag didn't look too expensive. It was a Jansport or something, right? A black messenger bag. I offered to have it cleaned or even buy you a new one but you declined and I was left in the awkward position of trying to explain and justify myself. It didn't help that Sara was laughing.
Even though you looked at my dog murderously I could see a sort of softness in your eyes which was inevitable--she's really cute, isn't she? A jack russell mix. I have to say, I was as surprised as you, because she's female and she's not a big pisser. If it's any consolation, it was only a little pee, because when I freaked out and yanked the leash she got pretty upset and it sort of...stopped. (I am not an animal abuser, by the way, it was just a reaction.)
But really, you're a cutie, and I understand your indignation which prevented me from having the guts to make a move after I told you Rosie peed on your bag. I was babbling like an idiot and probably seemed like a total flake, but I assure you I'm not. I have my degree in English and maintain a moderately successful writing career. I read Utne Reader, too! Please, please don't hate me (or my dog). When you stop fuming, can we meet for coffee? I promise I won't bring Rosie.
this is in or around the Public Garden