"No Problem" - A true story

Colorado Wednesday night. Moon, shining bright. In my work attire, khakis and blue button-down, taking the garbage down behind my girlfriend's house. Discover a previously unexcavated excretory pyramid built by the Mastiff. Seaweed green beach sandals with the rounded inlays of white and brown beads, all the rage in Fort Lauderdale, are commandeered. Now, where to purge such odorously offensive items??

No problem, spray them outside with the hose.

The hose resides on the side without a light, reclaimed by the Halloween decorations. I roll it up underneath all the extension cords, rattle plastic bones, wake the auditorily challenged and displace the artificial spider web harvested from Spidey the Hutt.

Once turned on water shoots vigorously, washing away the waste clinging to my very sole. Emergency!! Losing water pressure!! Like any good transvestite at the bar, I look around in light for a bend, or kink, in the hose. None to be found. No problem. Using a imaginary etiquette I start wiping it on the grass. While lunging, my car keys contort in my tightening pocket and sets off the car alarm.

I stand there in the middle of the night, wiping my single shoe on the front lawn in seaweed-colored sandals, striding to my car alarm covering an UB40 song. In this moment of cosmic convergence I look at the sky and giggle my ass off at the path laid behind me and smile, at the good luck allegedly associated with stepping this shit.