Treat me like a dog

We had just finished a major Sunday tweezle ride. New Girl, Erik the Red, Diego’s Mom, Ozzie, Texas Loverboy, and Teddy Bear were all sitting on the bricks at the Center of the Known Universe, quaffing coffee and enjoying the late morning sunshine.

Teddy Bear took a sip of his Venti double mocha soy latte with chocolate sprinkles topped with low fat whipping cream and looked at me as our thighs touched. “I can’t imagine life without my children,” he said. “They’re what make life worth living.”

I generally enjoy agreeing with people, except for the times I don’t, which is pretty much always. “That’s not what the latest statistics say.”

“Oh?” asked Teddy Bear.

“Yeah,” I said. “Studies show that parents tend to be unhappier in their relationships than non-parents.”

“Hmmm,” he said. “That’s weird.”

At that exact moment Teddy Bear’s smoking hot wife, Peggy Sue, strolled up in her Lululemon yoga pants. “Hi, Sweets,” she said, bending over to give him a wet, tonguey kiss. “How was your ride?”

Teddy Bear, who is worth $47.982 million dollars, owns a ship, and makes more money off interest from his investments while he sleeps than I’ve earned in salary since I was 18, returned the wet kiss. “What were you saying?” he asked me.

At that moment, up walked Chiseled Girl with her dog, Archeaopteryx. Archeaopteryx is a big, brown, short-haired Pure Breed Dog of unknown provenance. Archaeopteryx hopped up on the bricks where we were sitting and investigated Teddy Bear’s coffee concoction. “Oh, I’m sorry,” said Chiseled Girl. “You’re not a dog person, are you?”

“Not really,” said Teddy Bear, “but I don’t mind,” even though he clearly did.

Next to Teddy Bear was some lady who had also sat down on the bricks to enjoy her coffee. She wasn’t a cyclist and was carefully attending to her infant, who suckled his bottle in a very fancy pram that cost more than my Prius. That’s how they roll in Manhattan Beach, yo.

Getting even more interested in Teddy Bear’s coffee dinner, Archaeopteryx stood up and wagged his tail. This positioned his butthole about three inches away from the lady who was next to Teddy Bear. If you’ve never been three inches from a big dog’s butthole, it’s kind of a sobering experience. Even though Chiseled Girl, in keeping with Manhattan Beach custom, apparently kept Archaeopteryx’s rear cleaner than a surgical theater, when he stuck his wrinkly, brown little raisin of an anus up into the lady’s face, she looked a bit surprised. No one was paying attention except me, as everyone else was watching the dog try to get its nose into Teddy Bear’s 1,982-calorie coffee meal.

At that exact moment some dude and his wife strolled by. They saw Archaeopteryx and smiled. “Oh, look at the beautiful dog!” said the dude. He reached over and gave Archaeopterxy a pat on the head. Then his wife, who was also wearing the mandatory Manhattan Beach Lululemon Smoking Hot Housewife Yoga Pants, scratched him under the chin. “What a cute puppy!”

He wasn’t a puppy, and his butthole was still so close to the other lady that if she’d stuck out her tongue she would have gotten a very bitter taste on the tip of it. Like any self-respecting Manhattan Beach housewife, she was grossed out by the butthole, but was too embarrassed to say, “Would you please get your dog’s asshole out of my face?”

Archaeopteryx, on the other hand, was ecstatic. He had gotten his nose into Teddy Bear’s coffee, and Teddy was so grossed out he wasn’t going to have any more, ceding the field to the dog’s slurring tongue. At the same time, strangers were patting his head and scratching his chin. About all he had left to make it a perfect day was to take a steaming dump in front of the Starbucks.

Teddy Bear looked at me, not upset at all. “Isn’t it funny?” he asked.

“What’s that?”

“The way people will come up to a strange dog who, for all they know, might rip their fingers off, and stroke him and pat him and love him and admire him and let him drink from their coffee cup.”

“That’s funny?”

“Yeah,” said Teddy Bear with his characteristically gentle smile. “What would the world be like,” he asked “if they acted that way to other people?”

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23 thoughts on “Treat me like a dog”

  1. Because my coffee won’t get cold on the short drive over to the Boulevard course, I am going to go watch. I promise to stay out of the way. Most cyclists tend to avoid pickup trucks with gun racks in them out here in the East County anyway, so I don’t think I will be much of a problem. Which race are you going off in? 35+ or 45+?

    1. 45+. Good to know there will be someone who, at least theoretically, will be able to drive me home when I crumple somewhere out on the course. In truth, that race does need a sag going the opposite direction to pick up the detritus. Lots of people run out of gas in that race.

  2. Michelle Landes

    Coffee out the nostrils this am ! Can barely make lunches! Love you 😘

    Sent from my iPhone

    >

      1. I’m concerned. My daughter ate a slug when she was 2 years old and I figured it helped strengthen her immune system. But knowing how a dog’s butthole tastes? That just can’t leave you in a healthier state. It could explain a lot about you. 😉

  3. Almost lost my coffee through my nose on that “…please get your dog’s asshole out of my face.” Priceless!

  4. When I started reading post, I was re-visiting in my mind our decision to have kids, but after I finished reading, I’ve concluded I now want a dog.

  5. very fancy pram that cost more than my Prius, yoga pants, chiseled girls

    That sums up Manhattan Beach nicely. I’m still not sure where all the money comes from as I do not remember a time when the area was more humble. Do they commute to the law offices downtown???

  6. You are a totally immature miscreant and your mind is a sprawling cesspool. Absolutely my kind of person! Thank you for making me feel better about myself except when I don’t.

  7. Its not just a big butthole. Its a big brown butthole on a big brown dog. And people happily pet the other end of it.

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