I know, only I could run across a french bulldog with a pleather Biker Dude jacket in Home Depot.
On a Monday night.
In the suburbs.
Because, my friends, I attract this sort of thing. And I fully accept my lot in life and whole-heartedly embrace the responsibility to share this with those of you who are less fortunate in the ways of crazy occurrence in daily living.
Or just don’t carry a camera. Or a smartphone. Or – we can’t rule out – don’t care enough to document (shame on the last category)
Sunday I came across a ridiculous man with a dog in a stroller in the Bloomingdales shoe department. The next day I meet a foreigner with a biker bulldog in Home Depot. That makes sense, right? I am usually a firm believer that pets do not belong in clothing. They already have a coat, if you put one over it they might get overheated. Except in the case of my dear dog friend Penny, she just gets a little chilly and needs something to warm her up in her old age.
But since this coat was so spectacular I loosened my rule and started a conversation with the guy:
Me: OMG can I take a picture of your dog?
Guy: Um, I guess so (heavy slavic accent)
Me: He seems to like wearing it.
Guy: Yes, he does.
Me: Where did you get such a thing?
Guy: (with a much thicker accent than I thought he had at first.) Wal-Mart.
And there you have it kids. Another day in the life.
