I was particularly angry because Caliope is still sick. Can't keep food down or go outside sick. And I had to leave Jarett alone with her overnight. Cleaning up a sea of doggy diarrhea is a lot to ask of your Mom, it's absurd to ask it of your boyfriend who's allergic to dogs. Nonetheless, Jarett spent 24 hours cleaning up Caliope's opinion of Brooklyn.
He found time though to tell me some anecdotes of his time at the Crackhouse. I'm sure he'll be correcting me since he hates how I tell stories, but this is what I picked up, he arrived last night to walk the dogs and before he could even sufficiently park his car he had a little gang of hoodlums leaning on it. He then got out of the car and tried to talk some sense into these soon-to-be-rapists. I believe he asked them something like, "Why would you do this?" They mumbled something in their mumble language - like the click language, but in mumbles. Apparently, the main rapist-to-be has a full grill, which Jarett especially enjoyed since he's a dentist.
He got 100 feet from his car, realized his mistake, and moved his care. Not only did he dare cross their turf, but he actually questioned their motives. If he had left his car there he would have come back to nothing but some metal and his dental marketing cds on the ground.
Later last night while walking the dogs, he met some people in the elevator who were smoking. This is an adorable habit considering the elevator is the size of a small closet, and there are signs everywhere not to smoke. In fact, Jarett said some of the ash fell on my poor sick dog.
I hope this person with the ash, the monsters on the street, and all the aholes who leave shit on the ground for my dog to eat and get sick are struck with incurable pubic lice.
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