Pacific Sun Weekly 09.16.2011 - Section 1

›› SiNGLE iN THE SUBURBS

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Redemption thong Oh, the trouble I cause when I get my knickers in a twist...

by N ik k i Silve r ste in

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28 PACIFIC SUN SEPTEMBER 16 - SEPTEMBER 22, 2011

ou know that Hero and Zero column I write every week? For those of you unfamiliar with it, essentially we present a story about a Good Samaritan and balance it with a tale about a person committing a dreadful deed. Two sides of humanity in about 250 words.

When the Zero is too terrible to ďŹ t in the tiny space allotted, I skip it and go with a smaller offense. Not this time though.

Last weekend I went to the Sausalito Dog Park to while away the morning with my misfit friends and their dogs. As soon as I walked through the gate, my good-natured Bruno ran up to two little yappy mutts accompanied by a middleaged woman.

(Background: Bruno is a Siberian husky, a breed prone to talking, which may include low sounds resembling growls.

It is not growling; I assure you. A person that knows dogs typically knows about the talking husky.)

While approaching my precious Bruno, the two yappers, the middle-aged woman and a man that I know to be a dog-walker, I saw the woman swat my dog. Then she shoved him. Bruno’s feelings were hurt and I was incensed. “Why are you hitting my dog?� I asked. “Because he’s growling,� the woman replied.

In a tone much nicer than a dog-beater deserves, I explained that huskies talk. I could see she wasn’t buying it. “Sounds like growling,� she said. “Well, it’s not,� I answered. “If Bruno were growling, he wouldn’t be standing so sweetly next to your dogs.� “That is one big, scary dog,� the dogwalker interjected.

I have no idea why he weighed in, especially with a divisive comment. In fact, he walks Duncan, my good friend Laurie’s dog. I have spoken to him on numerous occasions and we were polite to each other. Perhaps he forgot. Surely, that’s the only explanation for his vulgar behavior “You’ve seen this dog a hundred times,� I reminded him. “This is Bruno, Duncan’s friend.� “That doesn’t change my opinion of him,� said the dog-walker.

I was stunned. This quiet, mildmannered dog walker, who, by the way, always received brownie points in my book for being attentive to the dogs he brings to the park, had insulted Bruno.

If you’re not a dog lover, consider it akin to someone calling your baby ugly.

Turning away from the horrible woman

and the mean dog-walker, I called Bruno and we quickly walked to the table ďŹ lled with my posse. Jerry, David, Kate, Jon, Anabella and six more made 10 of my very good, stick-up-for-me friends. Dog-walker and middle-aged woman were clearly outnumbered.

I got everyone’s attention and announced that the dog walker talked trash about Bruno. To my surprise, no one seemed concerned. Clearly, I needed to repeat the conversation verbatim. Still, my friends weren’t riled up. So, I went for broke, adding a bit of unknown, but important, information. “The dog-walker is lucky I didn’t tell his lady friend that he’s a dirty thong underwear thief,� I hissed.

Suddenly, my loyal friends were all ears.

They couldn’t wait to hear about the bad things those two said about my Bruno. “Are you saying he’s a pervert?â€? asked Jerry. “That dog-walker is the only person with keys to Laurie’s house,â€? I responded. “She bought three new pairs of lacy thong underwear and now they’re missing.â€? “He stole her new underwear?â€? Kate asked. “Well, Laurie wore it ďŹ rst, so it was new, dirty thong underwear,â€? I answered.

We worked the thong-thief theme into every conversation for the next hour. How clever we were. After all, didn’t the guy deserve it? Not only did he say terrible things about my pup, he’s also a pervert.

On my way home, I called Laurie. As usual, her voicemail picked up and I left a detailed message. “Your dog walker hates Bruno. Did you get rid of him or is he still riing through your hamper for lingerie?

Call me.�

The next day, Laurie called back. “I’ll tell the dog-walker that Bruno is a sweet, talkative boy. And, I found my underwear under a pile of dirty clothes.�

Thanks to Laurie, I spent the rest of the day tracking down 10 friends to explain that the dog-walker isn’t a dirty thong underwear-stealing pervert. They laughed and teased me.

I admit to being a yenta, yet, I was truly shaken that I had so easily spread a false rumor. All this man did was call my dog a name. This week, I truly am Zero.< Call Nikki whatever you want at nikki_silverstein@yahoo.com

Offer Nikki some helpful advice on TownSquare at â&#x20AC;şâ&#x20AC;ş paciďŹ csun.com