I paused, unsure what to do, as I made eye contact with the black and white beast.
A snake.
A snake in the stairwell of my apartment building.
What the fuck?!
The dog seemed confused. The snake seemed angry and frightened. I seemed questionably able to keep control over my own bowels.
"Come on, Dog," I said, slowly backing away, "I like the other set of stairs better anyway."
Later, I would post a warm-hearted, cleverly composed (in sparkly pen no less!) note to the mailroom door, in the hopes that whoever owned the snake would keep better tabs on it in the future and I would not have to worry about needing an underwear change upon returning from walks with my own beast.
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