Man's Best Friend

There are few things more brain-blowingly frustrating than standing around on a sidewalk in the early morning waiting for a dog to shit. Especially when said dog has woken you up at 7:30 AM by yapping his head off from his enclosed area in your home, indicating that he has to go to the bathroom.

This leads you to groggily arise and wander the streets in clothes a homeless person wouldn't be caught dead in, something you clad yourself in before your mind was functioning on a fully coherent level. And then the dog has the nerve to sniff everything it sees, eat god knows what off the ground, sit and scratch himself endlessly - in short, doing everything but what he tricked you into coming outside to do.

You can't go back inside yet, for fear that he'll shit in the house once you take your eye off him for one second. Putting him back in his enclosed area is a 100% guarantee of more ear-splitting barking. So the unfortunate reality is that the very best option you have is this: standing around outside, your life governed by the scatalogical timeline of a 9-month-old mongrel, as you hope, wish and pray that he will just poop already. The only thing more pathetic is the euphoric joy that erupts in your heart when he actually does bless you with a decent sized turd, which you then have the glorious honor of picking up and throwing away.

This psychological humiliation is all magnified a hundredfold when the dog is not even yours, but your girlfriend's, who sleeps soundly in bed upstairs.