No, it wasn't a tired old thong.
(Actually, I wish it had been.)
I took the O-Dog to school on Wednesday and, as we approached, we saw the familiar faces of Mr. G and Ms. M greeting kids out in front. There was an unfamiliar figure coming up the street. What's cool about my neighbourhood is that once you walk south on Elmwood Avenue and pass Bryant Street you start seeing more and more people with missing limbs and teeth and sh*t. It's quite entertaining. Most of them are regular fixtures. This guy wasn't.
He seemed to have all his appendages intact.
All the visible ones, anyway.
Our 'hero' approaches the two teachers and asks Ms. M to hold his coffee. She politely complies, as our protagonist begins to pull up his shirt. I'm sure at this point she's thinking, "Aw, @*$#. He's going to take out his mangy, street-person unit and take a leak all over the side of the school building." But, no.
While the O-Dog and I came closer, I saw that the gentleman was in fact doing was 'tightening' a white fabric around his waist. I couldn't conceal my amusement as I walked past Mr. G and commented, "I love this town." Mr. G kept rubbing his face, looking off into the street to avoid laughing. I overheard the homes, saying something about losing weight and something about a belt.
I dropped the O-Dog off in his classroom and headed back outside, and our resourceful paragon of destitution had disappeared in the distance.
Prego: Sorry about that. I didn't make it any easier for you to keep a straight face.
Mr. G: That's all right. I wouldn't have been able to anyways.
Prego: What the heck was he using for a belt?
Ms. M: A sock.
Prego: That's rich. I was kind of hoping it was an extension cord.
I cinched the dog leash tightly around my waist and bid my adieu, as I headed to the dumpster to find my breakfast.
I love this town. Indeed.