Living in the city has always been on my Life Bucket List.
Cool, hip people who listen to good music and eat foods I’ve never heard of live in the city.
People who wear trendy scarves and and impossibly high heels live in the city.
In the city, there’s a night life, a “anything goes” kinda vibe, and an energy that’s palpable.
Clearly, I belong here.
While I don’t necessarily fit into that city hipster mold, I had, until Monday, felt as though I’d adapted my environment.
Panhandlers no longer phase me. The lullaby of sirens rocks me to sleep nightly, and random women screaming in the streets at midnight ain’t nothin’ but a thang.
Well, Monday happened.
I had gotten home from the gym and fetched Campbell to take him outside to do his morning biznass.
As I walked out of our building’s front door, I (as I do every morning) turned to the right to let Campbell pee on the bushes.
But I was stopped dead in my tracks.
In front of me, on the side of my building, right next to the road – was a man. SHITTING.
Literally pooping in front of my building.
WE MADE EYE CONTACT.
As this full grown adult man, with pants around his ankles was POOPING, we locked eyes.
I let out a gasp, a HOLY SHIT! (no pun intended) and quickly turned away – you know, to be polite and let him wipe himself in the privacy of…downtown Richmond.