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The crazier the better

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Posted by on December 8, 2010 at 9:00 am

As my husband believes, there could be one crazy in the room and he or she will find me. They come from miles away to be near me. This afternoon in the dog run, it happened again.

I noticed her when she walked in because she was with a puppy and she looked a little bit elegant, among the other cold December day dog run clientele.  She had the pre-requisite big sunglasses, furry hat and long-but-not-sloppy down coat. And perhaps because I was in gym clothes (that I possibly wore yesterday), I was pleased to see someone a little bit pulled together. As I do, I smiled hello when she reached the bench where I was sitting, but I didn’t strike up a conversation or take off my sunglasses or do anything really inviting.

She sat on the bench nearest where I was, motions to my black exercise pants (original, I know) and began, “Ha. I had on some pants like that yesterday. “ I knew immediately we were in trouble, and she continued, “but I couldn’t get them down in time when I had to go and I accidentally peed all over myself. ” Then she used hand gestures to show me that she was wet all over after the “accident.” I have small children, I thought to myself, I know what gets wet when one pees oneself.

Horrified at her confession, I laughed louder than necessary and said something inane about it being a typical Monday. I didn’t know what else to do. Let me clarify:  it wasn’t the peeing on herself that horrified me, it was that she began a conversation with a total stranger about it.  Some of my mom friends joke about how they pee when they laugh since they have had babies, and my close friends share all kinds of embarrassing tales – sadly fewer since we stopped drinking our dinners – but she didn’t know me at all. We weren’t at a prenatal yoga class, a mom’s group or even a bar – all places where lots of women share.  We were sitting in the park waiting to pick up our dogs’ poop.

She chatted happily along about what a relief it was that she had another pair of gym pants to change into and how it seems to be harder to “hold it” the older “we” get.  That riled me up, her use of we. She looked WAY older than I do, didn’t she? I didn’t see much of her face, but her hands…  (Needless to say, I’m Kegeling as I type and putting sunscreen on my hands the second I get up from my desk.)

Maybe she thought she knew me, I hear that I look like a lot of people. Or maybe she just needed someone to talk to. I might talk all day long to my friends about barf or pee or the like, but if we’re strangers, I’ll not scratch that surface. But I’ll listen while you tell me your about yours, and maybe that afternoon, I’ll write all about it.

Filed under Dogs, NYC
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