I pull up next to a dark blue Mazda Miata at the light at 6th South and 2nd West on my way to get a fancy pants coffee at the corner coffee shop before work.
In the passenger seat and hanging out the window is a Jack Russell terrier. It’s almost pure white, with brown patches on it’s ear and though I’m obviously not AKA certified, I can see it’s just barely not a puppy anymore. It’s staring at me.
“Well, hello there! Aren’t you a cute one?”
The driver of the car is now staring at me.
“Thank you.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I was talking to your pooch. I mean, you’re cute, too. Probably. Well, you’re great. I guess. Sir. I’m really not a great judge of cuteness in men, and I really don’t know much about dogs either, I suppose. I probably also shouldn’t talk to strange dogs, either. Anyway. Cute dog. Hi. Good morning.”
“Thank you. Good morning.”
The light fails to change.
I can’t stop talking.
Or staring at the dog.
Which means it looks like I’m staring at Mazda Man.
“What’s your dog’s name?”
“Malcolm.”
The light continues to fail to change.
“That’s a great name for a dog!”
Is it? I don’t know. I have no idea. I have no control over the speech center in my brain anymore. I may also lose control of my bowels soon.
“Thanks.”
This is the longest light in the history of long lights.
“How old is he?”
“He’ll be a year old next month.”
“Very cool.”
The passage of time is what passes for cool for me now. It has come to this. Seconds passing is cool. Awesome.
Except that the light still hasn’t changed. I no longer believe Time is cool.
“What kind of dog is it?”
I can’t leave well enough alone with my opinion about how awesome time is. Nope. I keep talking.
“It’s a Jack Russell/chihuahua mix.”
Do not think about dogs mating, Jon. Do not ask about dogs mating, Jon. Do not pass “Go” or collect $200, Jon. Just turn your head and stare out the window; do not stare at this man in the blue Mazda Miata and his adorable Jack Russell/chihuahua mix named Malcolm. Jon: Just. Shut. Up.
“It’s amazing the different breeds they put together these days.”
“Yep.”
The light changes and you’ve never seen a Mazda Miata take off the line as quickly as that dark blue Mazda Miata did this morning.
I give a little wave, “Have a good day, Malcolm.”
Stop talking to strangers, Jon.
Stop talking to dogs, Jon.