Today I was sitting at a traffic light, waiting for it to change. At the corner I could see a guy in a Little Caesar’s costume, waving jubilantly at the passing cars. Next to him stood a person in a floppy dog suit, holding a sign for a local groomer. As the two of them stood next to each other, both caricatures constantly turned to chat with each other, expressively waving their arms and occasionally doubling up with laughter. At one point, Little Caesar self-consciously scratched the back of his ‘neck’, in a sort of unintentional parody of the nervous boy on a date.
Finally, the dog motioned back towards the grooming place and awkwardly waved. Little Caesar waved back. The dog paused awkwardly, and pulled off the head of the costume. Beneath the dog head was a smiling, blushing, blonde girl with a tight ponytail and apple cheeks. She leaned forward and kissed Little Caesar’s nose, and dashed away waving. Little Caesar shuffled, forgot what he was up to for a second, and then waved madly at the retreating Blonde Dog.
The light turned green, and I went.
I like to think that it was a sweet, earnest love story.
In reality, kissing the nose of that dirty, dingy old suit will probably give that poor girl rabies.