Watch Your Step

shoe

Last Sunday I was headed toward a church service in town for an afternoon funeral.  A long time Y volunteer and former member of my church had passed away.  She was a good woman.

I had to park several blocks away and was finishing up a phone call as I neared the sanctuary.

I noticed a couple behind me, so I stepped onto the grass in front of the handsome, wooden double doors that led into the service.

I sort of paced a bit as the conversation was serious.  At 2:55, I hung up.

At 2:55 and 3 seconds, I realized I had stepped squarely into the middle of a HUGE pile of light brown dog poo.  Others were entering the church.  Several glanced at me.  One lady shook her head as if I had done something wrong.

I didn’t poop out here lady.  I just stepped in it!!

There were a few snickers from the forming line, and although I was not the pooper, my level of embarrassment must have indicated that I was.

I limped over to the side of the church and worked diligently to wipe the dung off on the lawn.  When it appeared the majority of the visible damage was gone, I slowly lifted my shoe toward my nose.  About chest high I realized I could not enter the church with this shoe on, I smelled like a stable.  I pondered my options…

  1. Hide the shoe under a bush and go in with one foot exposed. Perhaps people, other than those who had observed first hand, would perceive I had an injury.  I wasn’t wearing socks so I decided it might be obvious that nothing was indeed wrong with me.  That strategy was not going to work.
  1. Go home. I don’t like funerals anyway.  But I had driven quite a ways and had even left the beach the day before so I could come honor this really cool lady who had given so much to others.  Certainly there was something else I could do.
  1. Go in and look around as if someone else smelled like #$%&. I’ve done that before with gas.  It can work.  But it was risky with this kind of smell.  And unlike a poot, it wasn’t going away until I left the building.  No good.
  1. Find a bathroom and pray for the best.

I walked around the building and found a side door I thought I could sneak in.  Unfortunately, this church had an incredible Greeting Team.  There was a very kind woman standing on the inside of the door with a program for the service in hand.  I twisted my face and rustled my hair to make it look like I’d just driven in from far away.  I looked at her glassy eyed and whispered, “Where’s the bathroom?”

She pointed around the corner.

It was a three seater so there wasn’t a lock on the door, all were welcome.  My hope was most people were seated so perhaps I had the place to myself.  Again I removed the shoe.  I wiped it with a damp paper towel – didn’t work.  I wiped it with a wet paper towel and soap: better, but the smell still lingered.  Finally, I put the whole damn shoe under the faucet.  That was when the bathroom door opened and a fifty something-year-old man walked in in a three piece suit.  He looked nice.  Gray pinstripes and nary a trace of poo on his being.

I smiled and acted as if this was normal.  Don’t most guys wash their shoes before church?

He went to the urinal.

I tried to rinse the sink to the best of my ability and quickly tossed the wet loafer on my foot.  I’m sure he could hear my squish as I walked out toward the pews.  HU-MILIATING.

I don’t own a dog mainly because I’m away from home a lot and secondly because I don’t like picking up other’s poo.  But apparently that shouldn’t be a reason.  Because apparently you don’t have to pick it up.  You can just leave it for the world to step in.

Yuck.

 

 

 

 

 

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6 Comments

  1. Ac Snow

     /  July 6, 2016

    -Bruce, really enjoyed this one…can’t imagine a much more confounding and embarrassing situation….thanks….ac——————————————-

    Reply
  2. Lynn Guerrera

     /  July 10, 2016

    I’m sorry this happened to you but the way you tell a story I can only smile and laugh. Thank you…

    Reply
  3. Dee

     /  July 11, 2016

    You SLAYED ME with this one !!!😂😂😂

    Reply

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