It's custom in Washington Heights not to pick up after one's dog. While this is a disgusting practice which makes waking down the sidewalk a smelly ordeal, there is a hilariously awkward situation which arises every time I pass someone holding the leash of a pooping pooch.
Here is how the situation generally arises: I'm strutting down the street, minding my own business, while right in front of me is a large dog doing his business. I inevitably stare at the scene and a natural expression of disgust takes hold. The person attached to this creature sensing my approach averts his attention down or away.
It seems as if the dog owner becomes stricken with shame because, although the act is committed in accordance with the customer of the Washington Heights masses, it seems as if the basic norms of human decency have not been entirely stricken from their reason and shame ensues.
As for me, I enjoy this interesting dabble into anthropology each time I step outside.
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