While I was waiting for the tech to bring me a bag of extraordinarily expensive dog food (the label is in French for fuck's sake) I saw a fat black woman and her father, I guess, step out of the SUV. The man was dressed in pajamas like you do in Las Vegas. We shop in our pj's, and you can bite me with your judginess on that. The woman cradled a little terrier in her arms. The old man's little dog was attached by one of those retractable leashes they warn you about now.
The old man had trouble keeping his balance and his daughter seemed indifferent to this peril. I instantly felt sorry for her because I know how callous you can become when you have to care for an ailing adult and I felt sorry for the old man because maybe one day that might be me slouching next to my "I hate you" caretaker. The dog inadvertently wrapped the leash around the old man's legs as they entered the clinic, and I was certain the man was going to face-plant. It was a small dog, but I'm telling you this man had piss poor balance. His legs did not straighten the way yours and mine do when we stand.
When the dog wouldn't settle, the old man yelled at it. Then it sat and he hit it. Then he stood next to me at the counter.
As he still seemed in danger of falling I prepared to pull the dog to safety. That's when I saw that the old man's dick was hanging out of his pajama bottoms. "Your pants," I said to him because "Hey, I can see your dick," seemed too bold. When he didn't react I looked at his daughter hoping to prompt an intervention. She didn't budge. So I said, "Your pants," again and took the leash so that he could pull his dick in and pull up his pants. And then he took the leash back and we all moved on.
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