Thankfully, the exact moment I realize I don't have a bag to pick up the poop the doge is making, my downstairs neighbor shows up with his dog, and I ask him if he's got a spare.
"We'll just double up," he says graciously, using the one bag he's got to scoop up the doge's poop. "It's like we're sharing a condom, or something."
Laughing, I admit that's the most disgusting thing I've heard today, and he acknowledges my compliment as he walks a way with a shouted, "Success!"
One year ago: Weapon of Choice
Two years ago: I Was Thinking Email Addresses, For Starters
Three years ago: First Night In Vermont
Four years ago: Rhetorical
Five years ago: Selling The Couch, Part II
Ten years ago: Where My Demons At?