Start of day: it was a good start to the day. I was waiting for the train, minding some other people’s business, when I noticed:

Somebody dropped their bundle

This is great, because someone dropped a whole lotta mangoes, which means someone somewhere has far fewer mangoes than they wanted to have.

But also this is terrible because I missed it. I can picture the look on their face as the mangoes rolled onto the tracks, but it’s not the same as seeing it first hand.

The bats are going to have a field day with this.

Middle of day: I saw this bike.

It says “Giant” but really it’s quite small.

Tied up so that several clowns don’t ride away on it

I’m pretty sure the guy that owned it was standing next to me, staring while I took a photo of his little bike. I wanted to ask him at what point he thought a bike was too small to require front suspension.

End of day: I was walking home from the train station and was only a few hundred metres from the train station (the same station I mentioned earlier in the sentence), so I’m walking in stride with many of my former fellow train passengers.

I don’t dilly dally, so I was a duckin’ and a weavin’ my way through the masses, making car sounds as I went.

Vroom vroom. Beep beep! Whoooosh.

On my left as I vroomed down the footpath was a wall/fence and on the other side were people’s front areas which are higher than the footpath. I’m explaining that terribly. It’s like, if you had your house, then some outside stuff (like grass or concrete or pavers and mondo grass) then a fence, then the footpath. What do you call that?

Anyway, imagine the part between your house and the fence is higher than the footpath on the other side of the fence. It’s really a wall at that point, isn’t it? I mean, it was brick down the bottom, and frosted glass for some reason at the top.

Honestly, frosted glass of all things!

Anyway, poking above this wall/frosted glass fence, and right there at my eye height, was this glorious thing:

Uno wiemaraner

Not that exact dog, I didn’t take a photo, and, like a play with too many people on stage, it was overcast. But the weimaraner of my story was every bit as gorgeous as this thing. I saw it from about 10 metres away.

10% of me wanted to keep walking because I had just overtaken a bunch of people and it seemed weird to stop walking, half-block the footpath to pat a dog that could very well be a little biter.

The following is true: a while back I searched for “weimaraner” on YouTube and the second video down was “Top 5 Reasons NOT to Get A Weimaraner”. I didn’t even watch it but I guess someone somewhere in my brain thought that they’d store that thumbnail away for another day.

So now as I approached this dog, my memory presented me this video thumbnail with a big red cross in it and I wondered if one of the reasons that you shouldn’t get a weimaraner is because they projectile vomit on people that stop to pat them, like a vulture might.

As I said, 10% of me wanted to walk on by. The other 90% had already stopped and was busy enquiring of this dog whether he was or was not a good boy, and then ensuring him in no uncertain terms that he was, indeed, a good boy. Yes he was.

Behind me I heard the sound of ovaries exploding as a two Korean chicks I had just overtaken appeared to agree with each other that this dog was adorable.

So there I was, blocking the footpath, feeling light in the soul ruffling the heck out of this fella’s ears (which he loved) when BOOM!

Dos wiemaraner

Another one appeared out of nowhere. It was like too Christmases at once — that is too say, all a bit much.

So that was the end of that.

Then I had to re-overtake all the people that had passed me during my doggy pit stop.

I googled “weimaraner head fence” and was pleased…

You can just tell that kid’s racist

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