Since I can’t actually punch every person who annoys me in the neck (I mean, my friends would get tired of bailing me out of the clink, you know?), I have decided to start a semi-regular, recurring-type installment thing (vague!) where I simply list the people who have annoyed me of late. A blacklist, if you will. I have no authority or connections to make this list in any way effective, but I can say with utmost certainty that none of these schlubs will be invited to my next all-night breakdancing party. OH, no.
For the first installment of the list, I have chosen to present to you the annoying figures The Dachshund and I meet on our frequent walks. You may recognize some of these characters, and should you, I humbly ask that you consider their inclusion on this list in any of your interactions. Do not hire these people! Do not lend them change for the payphone! Do not go to bed with them! They have been BLACKLISTED!
The shadowy figure who allows his black poodle to crap beneath a certain fir tree and never cleans it up. This dude is always stealthy, lurking just around the corner, ready to zip off, poodle in tow, as soon as the frizzy beast is done depositing his loose, stank stools at the foot of the tree. I get that he may not always have a doggy bag with him, but clean-up duty is required by the terms of the apartments’ pet policy. That’s not all, though: the particular appearance of his poodle’s poo leads me to harbor vile paranoid fantasies that it is riddled with highly contagious viruses fatal to my Little Dog. The particularly strong poop odor makes the sloppy piles irresistible to the poor puppy. Damn you, shadowy figure! Clean up your stupid poodle’s festering disease-turds! You have been BLACKLISTED!
The nosy, sticky little child who always demands, in hard-to-decipher child language, pettapuppy! pettapuppy! Is the wee sticky one asking me? Shouldn’t he be asking someone like, oh, say, his dad? I mean, surely his parents have instilled in him a deep and abiding fear of strangers and their strange dogs. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to be sticking his little child hand in front of the gaping, beastly maw of every puppy to come down the sidewalk. Does he? Because my dog might well eat him. He does not look especially delicious to me, not being either deep-fried or covered in a blend of five cheeses, but you never know about dogs, do you? My dog seems rather to enjoy eating (or at least chewing on) things like other dogs’ turds, rotten peanut shells, cigarette butts, dead slugs, greasy french-fry containers, and used kleenex. Seen alongside that dubious doggy buffet, the sticky child just might be delicious indeed. Stay away from us, kid; you have been BLACKLISTED!
The crazy lady who got out of her car just to say hello to me. Damn, when this lady appeared I thought it was something out of a French farce. I’m all happily walking down the sidewalk, as is the custom of the times, and she runs up to me all “HELLO I STOPPED JUST TO SAY HELLO TO YOU HELLO HELLO.” It took me a couple of seconds to realize that the white station wagon abandoned some fifteen yards up the street, driver’s-side door still open, was hers. She had stopped, left her car, gotten out, and chased me down just to say hello to me and my irresistibly adorable dog. I know, I know. He is cute. And then she had to tell me all about her dachshund and how he was old and how he has epilepsy and how he used to be this little one time and how his father was a wire-hair and so his coat isn’t as smooth, and then she asked me my dog’s name and ignored me when I said “ee-gone” because those two syllables didn’t seem to mean anything to her, and then she started in on the interrogation: how old was he, how long had I had him, did I get him from a breeder locally? And I had to quietly scoop up the excited puppy and just walk away. Thanks for ruining my walk, you crazy, crazy, insane lady. You have been BLACKLISTED!
The creepy old dude with the knee brace who walks around all slowly, smiling. I understand that maybe he walks around slowly because of his knee injury and maybe he smiles because he is friendly, but let me tell you one thing: there is nothing more like the very definition of creepy than an old dude, walking around slowly, and smiling. (Shudder!) Also, one time he told me “you look strangely like your little dog.” Well, fine. Actually I guess that wasn’t exactly what he said, but it sounded like it. I guess actually what he said was “you look strange without your little dog,” but whatever, creepy dude; you have been BLACKLISTED!
The nutria who lurks beside the bank of the creek. Nutria are the single ugliest, nastiest mammal ever, of all time. They look like a giant rat with bright orange fangs and dorsal nipples. They disgust me. Their skanky creek bed is dangerously close to the sidewalk where I like to walk (it being the custom of the times and all). Stay away from the sidewalk, nutria, you giant rat-thing that is bigger than my dog! You may not be as creepy as the lady who got out of her car just to say hello to me–not by a long shot–but, nonetheless, you have been BLACKLISTED!