Scuzzy, bundled up homeless man shuffling down the street toward me and Milo on our afternoon walk: (slurring) You go' some money?
Me: (uncomfortably) Uh, no.
Scuzzy Homeless Guy: (stopping to bug me more) No?
Me: (brusquely, eyes rolling as I hurry us past) No.
What Actually Happened
Perfectly normal guy from my neighborhood, bundled up because it's Chicago in March and therefore below freezing, walking down the street toward me and Milo on our afternoon walk: (cheerily looking down at Milo, though mumbling a bit because of his scarf) Is that a Lhasa Apso?
Me: (uncomfortably) Uh, no.
Normal Guy: (confused and stopping to have a neighborly chat) No?
Me: (unreasonably and rudely brushing past) No.
Number of seconds before I realize why he looks so confused, turn and scream after him, "Shih-tzu! He's a SHIH-TZU!"?
Approximately 15.
Damn doppelganger dog.
2 comments:
Too funny! I bet he then thought you were crazy when you started yelling back at him.
And thus begins a never-ending circle of mistaken identity in the neighborhood.
He'll always be the homeless man to me and I'll always be the schizophrenic dog walker to him.
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