Karma. Or, ewwww! What's that smell?

One of the perks of city living in the summertime is the overheard snatches of conversation from people walking down the street.

The other day, three men were walking by, and, when they were in front of my window, they happened to be talking about picking up after their dogs. One said that he rarely does it, especially if it's late at night and he thinks no one is looking. He said that the rain washes it away, anyway. [It doesn't, except maybe in Disney movies, where everything sparkles after a sun shower and bluebirds put ribbons in your hair.]

Well, one day, he did get a payback. On his way to work he stepped in dog poop, which can be quite a mess especially with the right shoes. That was a bit of poop he had to pick up, and it wasn't even from his own dog.