On my walk last evening with all three dogs, I crossed paths with a cute boy I had seen around the neighborhood for the third time since the weekend. Of course, each moment was less than serendipitous and I was less than charming. During our first interaction, I had my arms around a tree in an effort to untangle the dogs and the second involved an attempt by Fritz to eat his dog (but not him, surprisingly. Hmmm..progress?)
As expected, our third encounter ended true to form – I walked away mortified and he walked away scared for his life. After all three dogs accosted his beagle, I could only imagine what this guy thought of me now; an ungraceful, tree hugging owner of cannibalistic dogs.
I walked back to my building and boarded the elevator, relieved that there were no more casualties for the evening. That was until the cute boy followed me into the small, oxygen-lacking box with his beagle.
Thinking back on what felt like the longest elevator ride to the second floor in history, I wished I had been more polite and taken the golden opportunity to introduce myself. I suppose it would have been easier under less chaotic circumstances given that he had to hold up his own dog during our ride up. Although he claimed the dog was “too tired from day care” to stand, we all know New Neighbor’s was awkwardly cradling his 20 pound dog purely for life-saving purposes.
As I held Fritz’s mouth shut with one hand and used the other to pull Jasper and Pele away from New Neighbor’s leg, I tried to start a friendly conversation by asking him what day care he takes Beagle to. His reviews of Camp Bow Wow were clearly important to me since Fritz has already been kicked out of Canine Connection, but it really came down to the fact that I couldn’t think of a better ice breaker. Being cramped in a small confine with another person, four dogs, and sexual tension can make you feel very vulnerable and confused, even though the sexual tension part was probably all in my head. We then wished each other good night without even knowing each other’s names and he continued his journey down the hall until he disappeared into… the apartment next door.
I was a little disappointed that I had probably blown my opportunity to make a good third impression. Then again, I doubt that my terrorist dog scared him away after only 5 days of inhabiting the apartment next door, so there’s always time to make a move. I could always just strut next door to borrow a cup of sugar or invite him over for a drink, just as long as he hasn’t already convinced himself that his new neighbor could possibly be Michael Vick’s protégé.
Pookie Lola writes Crescent City (Mis)Connection weekly for NolaVie.
