Puddle jumping

I went to Aldi in the afternoon. Got good deals, felt good, pulled up...

There was a guy facing my fence. I thought, hey, he's looking at the dog. Alex is a pretty dog. He deserves to be looked at...

WRONG! He saw me turn in, whipped around and cupped himself while he zipped up his fly.

HE PISSED ON MY FENCE. ON DOUGLAS STREET. IN FRONT OF GOD and EVERYBODY! Might I remind you that Douglas is this part of town's main street.

Geez. This was NO kid. This was a grown-grown man, hair turning gray, pissing on my fence. He wasn't greasy looking. He didn't walk like he was drunk; he simply walked away, and not even at a fast pace. Weird, just weird. His clothes were clean. He was appropriately dressed for the weather in a nice ballcap. He matched, tan and maroon.

I wrote some more today.

I am SO weirded out by that guy pissing on my fence. I mean, there was a puddle on the sidewalk! Gross, so gross.

And you wonder why I like my nice, quiet gerbils. I'll post about them later.