A day in the life
I walked to the big gay pet store this morning - that would be the Pet Value on Charles Street, christened "the big gay pet store" by Kevin because it's in the heart of Mt. Vernon and excessively staffed by handsome gay men. I say excessively because at any given time the ratio of staff gays to customers is about 4:1. It's also excessively neat, clean, and full of elaborate displays of homebaked dog treats and organic cat litter.
I do love living in the gayborhood.
As I rounded the corner to turn onto Charles I was almost knocked down by a herd of UM students clamoring for the starbucks, which has, apparently, extended their list of accepted currancies to include US dollars, B notes (awesome) AND university ID cards. I banked wide to avoid them and almost smaked into a hippie with dreads down to his bum walking a really cute Ibizan Hound mix. I apologized and moved on to the pet store, bought my overpriced "sensitive stomach" cat food (essential for protecting my couch, carpet and sanity from vomit) and braced myself for a second pass by the starbucks.
When I came back out, my hippie and his cute dog were settled into the starbucks bench with a cardboard sign reading "Dog Needs Food."
My second trip to the pet store ended with a bag of grain-free-wild-bison-holisitic-all-natural dog food, which believe it or not was one of the less yuppie-sounding options in the store.
Call me a sucker, but if I can tell people are in legitimate need, I can't walk away. The dog was cute and friendly, and it's not like the owner can use that dog food to buy drugs or anything. My usual suspects, the guys I see on that bench every day rattling change in discarded starbucks cups, are slightly more questiionable. Also, I don't carry cash. At all.
I told usual suspect #1 exactly that as I handed the dog food to the hippie.
He called me a racist white girl.
You stay classy, Baltimore.
I do love living in the gayborhood.
As I rounded the corner to turn onto Charles I was almost knocked down by a herd of UM students clamoring for the starbucks, which has, apparently, extended their list of accepted currancies to include US dollars, B notes (awesome) AND university ID cards. I banked wide to avoid them and almost smaked into a hippie with dreads down to his bum walking a really cute Ibizan Hound mix. I apologized and moved on to the pet store, bought my overpriced "sensitive stomach" cat food (essential for protecting my couch, carpet and sanity from vomit) and braced myself for a second pass by the starbucks.
When I came back out, my hippie and his cute dog were settled into the starbucks bench with a cardboard sign reading "Dog Needs Food."
My second trip to the pet store ended with a bag of grain-free-wild-bison-holisitic-all-natural dog food, which believe it or not was one of the less yuppie-sounding options in the store.
Call me a sucker, but if I can tell people are in legitimate need, I can't walk away. The dog was cute and friendly, and it's not like the owner can use that dog food to buy drugs or anything. My usual suspects, the guys I see on that bench every day rattling change in discarded starbucks cups, are slightly more questiionable. Also, I don't carry cash. At all.
I told usual suspect #1 exactly that as I handed the dog food to the hippie.
He called me a racist white girl.
You stay classy, Baltimore.