Clean up! Please!

I aspired to be a hermit this past weekend, to recuperate and relax. For a variety of reasons, it wasn't going well by the time I went to bed Friday... my mind was wandering too far out of control. So... no more hermit come Saturday. I texted a friend and we ultimately hung out Saturday evening. I went to her Rogers Park apartment, and we decided to go to Guitar Center and play with some "toys".

By the time I got out of the car and we were approaching the store, I noticed that my left foot was slipping ever so slightly as I walked. I figured it was ice, and I just walked more slowly... not fully processing the issue of how my left foot could be a little slippy, but my right foot was as steady as could be.

We get inside and we peruse the instruments, and we eventually make our way to the acoustic guitar room. We both grab something and start noodling around. Eventually we start to strum some lines from a song we both like, and, as I usually do, I start to tap my foot to keep in time. Of course, I tap my left foot. I make a startling discovery...

There's a little brown lump protruding from the side of my shoe. Upon closer inspection... which, in my stupidity, involved taking my shoe off and holding it up near my face to take a "whiff"... I realized that I had, earlier in the night, inadvertantly invaded territory that was marked by a dog.

Just my luck, this must have been a massive dog. It may have been Clifford the big red dog that's the size of a north shore McMansion.

So, I still like guitar playing, my friend is laughing at me, and I decide to keep playing. However, instead of tapping my foot on the ground, I'm pounding my foot full-force into the core of the earth. Of course, then I realize that the "stuff" is just getting more firmly ingrained into the treads of my shoe. So I angle my foot to the side and slam the edge of my shoe, to knock the doo-doo out. Didn't work.

At this point, I have, what I call, a full fledged "poo shoe issue". It didn't stop me from stepping into another room with electric guitars rudely loud amplifers, and jamming on some blues riffs with a few guys in there. I still have my priorities. After the store closed and we got kicked out, I went outside with my friend and started going postal on my left shoe. I scraped it against curbs, slammed it against brink walls, soaking it in rainwater puddles and dragging it along the concrete.

I nearly was the one who flew over the cuckoo's nest. This stunk... literally and figuratively.

We went to Baker's Square for late night pie and a board game, and I conspicuously twisted the bottom of my shoe into the restaurant's carpeting under the table... for an hour. Didn't clean it completely.

We get back to my friend's apartment, and following scene is set: me, a small bathroom, 15 Clorox lemon scented wipes, and 6 Q-tips. If Chris Farley ever tried this set up in a Saturday Night Live skit, I'm telling you, there would have been no need for Matt Foley the motivational speaker.

The moral of my "poo shoe issue" is this... people, CLEAN UP AFTER YOUR FREAKIN' DOG!!!!