SO I AM WALKING on SE Hawthorne, enjoying an early evening. A cute guy is sitting on a bus bench. He nods, gives the "What's up?" line. I stop and we chitchat. He's pretty cute, and we start having an intense convo. Love, life, freedom—all in a span of five minutes. We are hitting it off! We come to the epiphany that in this world, you gotta not care what people think in order to make it. He proclaims, "I don't care what people think!" and stands up, puts his hand down the back of his pants, and starts to dig around. I watch, horrified, as he pulls out a hand full of shit, walks over to the Hawthorne Theatre, and smears it down the side. Then I realize he's tripping balls! Without further comment, I stand up and walk really fast across the street. I hear him yelling, "Piglet! Piglet! Oh my piglet, come back!" He then starts walking after me. I run into the grocery store and tell customer service. They actually lock the sliding doors, and I leave after a half hour.—Anonymous
