Living in New York City exposes you to a lot of freaks - there's no other way to put it. Over the past 6+ years that I've lived in Manhattan, I've seen it all. Everything from a peeing one-legged homeless man wearing a pinwheel hat to an obese woman eating a hoagie, screaming "Your life is going to end on Tuesday!!!" One can assume that these people suffer from severe psychological issues, out casted from society as a result of drugs, alcohol, chemical imbalances, or just crap luck. With nearly 9 million people in New York City, it's safe to assume at least 1% are clinically insane based on my flawless computations.
But what about the rest? Among the remaining 99% are your fine-dressed business men in Armani suits, your upper-east side elderly woman with too much makeup and money, and your 20-somethings barely scraping by on $30k a year. Lurking among these remaining 99% are the truly insane, primarily because they don't know that they are insane. They're the ones who you should be afraid of - the most insane of the bunch. And the only way to recognize them is to look for a dog leash.
I'm, of course, speaking of pet-owners who dress up their dogs.
These (mostly) women strut down 5th Avenue staring downward with egotistical grins at their miniature pet pooches, using the streets as a catwalk - nay dogwalk - for Fido. It's just sick. Odds are you've seen it everywhere yourself. Raincoats, sweaters, tu-tus, diamond-encrusted collars, trench coats, hoodies (yes, hoodies), Yankee attire, top hats, boots, sneakers, even sandals. With so many people in New York starving and in need of fresh clothing, it's a travesty to see dogs with brains the size of acorns walking around in expensive garb. Even the moral compass of New York, the recently-deceased Leona Helmsley, suffered from this severe affliction of cancerous insanity. She left $12M to her dog! Beyond just the utter waste of money, the dog has no idea what's going on, likely forgets it's even wearing something, doesn't need clothing to begin with, and looks like an utter tool. The cons overwhelmingly outweigh any sort of benefit. Yet, in the mind of the deeply troubled owner - it all makes sense. Gladiator sandals and a beret on a chihuahua are the true signs of deep emotional problems, shrouded in costume.
Now don't get me wrong, I love animals, and I understand the psychology behind wanting them to be the center of attention. I have two dogs back at my family's home on Long Island. Janie, our 12-year old golden retriever absolutely adores strutting around au naturale. And Jasmine, my 7-year old maltese? She's perfectly content as the 110% overweight animal that she is; she doesn't need to cover up her belly that hangs on the floor. Though, recently things took a turn for the worse when I returned home to find my mother slipping a yellow raincoat on our maltese before a walk in the rain. I watched in horror as the dog stared forward in confusion and nervousness, wondering what the hell was going on. I said nothing. I immediately got on the next train to New York City, knowing full well that my mother had turned and was unable to be saved.
Bleak, Andrew. Bleak.
If you have something you'd like to write about just let me know, and you might be the next Summer Friday blogger!
Related Things:
Now don't get me wrong, I love animals, and I understand the psychology behind wanting them to be the center of attention. I have two dogs back at my family's home on Long Island. Janie, our 12-year old golden retriever absolutely adores strutting around au naturale. And Jasmine, my 7-year old maltese? She's perfectly content as the 110% overweight animal that she is; she doesn't need to cover up her belly that hangs on the floor. Though, recently things took a turn for the worse when I returned home to find my mother slipping a yellow raincoat on our maltese before a walk in the rain. I watched in horror as the dog stared forward in confusion and nervousness, wondering what the hell was going on. I said nothing. I immediately got on the next train to New York City, knowing full well that my mother had turned and was unable to be saved.
Bleak, Andrew. Bleak.
If you have something you'd like to write about just let me know, and you might be the next Summer Friday blogger!
Related Things:
- Read all the Summer Friday entries