It was a beautiful, cold winter day last week when I decided to take a walk on the snow-covered bike path in Ketchum. I was breathing the fresh mountain air and taking in the magnificence of this area that I call home when I stepped in it. "Sonuva!" It was huge and new and moist and I stepped right on it. I was stomping around in the snow and trying to scuff the "poop" off my boot when I noticed an attractive woman of my acquaintance walking down the path toward me from the other direction.
She: "Hi! Why are you dancing in the snow?"
Me: "Just keeping warm."
She: "You stink."
Me: "Thank you very much. You don't."
She: "Well, I should say not."
Me: "I didn't say not."
She: "You really do reek."
Me: "Normally I don't. Wanna' go get some coffee?"
She: "You know, I really don't."
Me: "Is it because of?"
She: "Yes. Goodbye."
Me: "Always a pleasure!"
I watched her fade out of my sight, shrugged, turned to continue my walk and stepped in another one. "Sonuva !" This wasn't right. Now my other boot was coated with semi-solid waste and here came another local beauty.
Her: "Hi! It's nice to ... Oh, my God!"
Me: "Wait! It's not me!"
Her: "Yeah, right. Gotta go!"
Me: "We could have been close!"
My voice trailed away as another opportunity slipped out of view. Was it too much to ask of these dog owners to pick up their ... "Sonuva !" I was buried in it this time! Huge mounds of animal bowel movement lay caked on my Sorels. And, wouldn't you know it, the lady I really wanted to get to know came jogging toward me. With one motion, I wrenched the tainted boots off my feet and hurled them into the forest.
Lady: "Where are your shoes? You must be dying from the cold! Quick, follow me to my house and we'll warm you up!"
Me: "All right."
On the other hand, I really love dogs.
Nice talking to you.