I got home today and there was poop on my porch.
They were in a bag. "They," meaning multiple turds. And "bag," meaning the sender obviously wanted to scoot off with the hopeful visual of me sticking my face inside to examine the contents.
Putting poop on a porch is a d!ck move. That's the nicest way to describe it. The worst way is... it's a hate crime. The technical way to describe it is... it's a politico-socio-economic power play meant to intimidate. I guess there's also the kid-way to describe it... it's freaking awesome.
I immediately identified the turds. They were dog logs. That meant I was immediately able to identify the culprit. My landlord.
My landlord has about 2 acres of lawn in front of about 2 1/2 acres of woods. There have been bears and coyotes in the area, not to mention the mega f-tons of deer. And it's pitch black outside at night, which means if our dog takes a dump at midnight, we can't even see him squatting. But apparently this city-slicker of a gem of a homeowner walks every square millimeter of the property every time he drives up. And he absolutely hates dog turds. They're a personal offense to him.
He emailed me about a month ago, aghast that we missed a pile. I had been home all that day, and had talked to him earlier. But instead of a friendly heads up, he waited until he drove the 2 hours back home, and it was dark out, so I couldn't even tell him I would go pick it up. He never even volunteered a general location of the poo. I simply sucked it up and apologized.
But now I was holding a bag of it. If my wife had stepped outside and found it, she would have lost her mind. Because putting poop on a porch is a d!ck move. And she had no idea about the previous email. She had no idea this was already A Thing.
I found him near the pole barn.
"I guess that was you who put the dog crap on the porch?"
He said something stupid while sticking out his chest, proud of his accomplishment and the message it sent.
"Well, to do that right, you're supposed to set the bag on fire and ring the doorbell."
I should mention I was wearing a suit. Rare occasion, but yeah.
He got defensive. I yelled. He blustered on about turds. I tried to explain that he simply could have shoved a stake next to the pile and have me pick it up. Nope. I grabbed the trash can full of doggie-poo-bags and dumped them on the ground, proving our efforts. He defended his right to put poo on the porch, because there have been oh-so many times we've left them on the lawn.
Nothing swayed the guy. All the help I've given him so he wouldn't have to drive out as much. The brush and other piles of garbage he's left around the property for weeks, that I finally trucked away on my own. The fact my wife could have stepped outside and thought someone harbored a horrific amount of ill will against us and feared it was a stalker.
Finally, I said this.
"What would you think if you walked outside YOUR OWN DOOR and saw sh!t in a bag? And what grandiose point were you trying to make? All you did is transfer unwanted poop from your property, to ANOTHER PLACE ON YOUR PROPERTY. Putting poop on a porch is NOT not what adults DO."
I think the "adult" thing got him. He apologized, but added that his apology was uttered because he had no idea I'd get so upset. Sure. "No idea" makes him a liar or the most naive human in America.
I wish there was a better ending. I'll have to make one up...
Suddenly, realizing his own folly, my landlord tore off all his clothes and lept upon the filled poo bags, writhing around while flogging himself with a pair of them. He finally wore himself out and fell asleep, curled up in the fetal position amidst the stench.
They were in a bag. "They," meaning multiple turds. And "bag," meaning the sender obviously wanted to scoot off with the hopeful visual of me sticking my face inside to examine the contents.
Putting poop on a porch is a d!ck move. That's the nicest way to describe it. The worst way is... it's a hate crime. The technical way to describe it is... it's a politico-socio-economic power play meant to intimidate. I guess there's also the kid-way to describe it... it's freaking awesome.
I immediately identified the turds. They were dog logs. That meant I was immediately able to identify the culprit. My landlord.
My landlord has about 2 acres of lawn in front of about 2 1/2 acres of woods. There have been bears and coyotes in the area, not to mention the mega f-tons of deer. And it's pitch black outside at night, which means if our dog takes a dump at midnight, we can't even see him squatting. But apparently this city-slicker of a gem of a homeowner walks every square millimeter of the property every time he drives up. And he absolutely hates dog turds. They're a personal offense to him.
He emailed me about a month ago, aghast that we missed a pile. I had been home all that day, and had talked to him earlier. But instead of a friendly heads up, he waited until he drove the 2 hours back home, and it was dark out, so I couldn't even tell him I would go pick it up. He never even volunteered a general location of the poo. I simply sucked it up and apologized.
But now I was holding a bag of it. If my wife had stepped outside and found it, she would have lost her mind. Because putting poop on a porch is a d!ck move. And she had no idea about the previous email. She had no idea this was already A Thing.
I found him near the pole barn.
"I guess that was you who put the dog crap on the porch?"
He said something stupid while sticking out his chest, proud of his accomplishment and the message it sent.
"Well, to do that right, you're supposed to set the bag on fire and ring the doorbell."
I should mention I was wearing a suit. Rare occasion, but yeah.
He got defensive. I yelled. He blustered on about turds. I tried to explain that he simply could have shoved a stake next to the pile and have me pick it up. Nope. I grabbed the trash can full of doggie-poo-bags and dumped them on the ground, proving our efforts. He defended his right to put poo on the porch, because there have been oh-so many times we've left them on the lawn.
Nothing swayed the guy. All the help I've given him so he wouldn't have to drive out as much. The brush and other piles of garbage he's left around the property for weeks, that I finally trucked away on my own. The fact my wife could have stepped outside and thought someone harbored a horrific amount of ill will against us and feared it was a stalker.
Finally, I said this.
"What would you think if you walked outside YOUR OWN DOOR and saw sh!t in a bag? And what grandiose point were you trying to make? All you did is transfer unwanted poop from your property, to ANOTHER PLACE ON YOUR PROPERTY. Putting poop on a porch is NOT not what adults DO."
I think the "adult" thing got him. He apologized, but added that his apology was uttered because he had no idea I'd get so upset. Sure. "No idea" makes him a liar or the most naive human in America.
I wish there was a better ending. I'll have to make one up...
Suddenly, realizing his own folly, my landlord tore off all his clothes and lept upon the filled poo bags, writhing around while flogging himself with a pair of them. He finally wore himself out and fell asleep, curled up in the fetal position amidst the stench.