Doody Utca

Back in January I was walking with Pablo along Kertész utca, talking philosophy, as one does with Pablo. Then I almost stepped in a turd.

Not just any turd. An enormous dollop of poo. Because I can't censor what comes out of my mouth, I screamed, “Look out for the dogshit!” Deep in thought, Pablo brushed it off continued talking about Hungarian attitudes towards outsiders. We continued walking.

SARAH: There’s another! There’s another! Holy god, what is this? Look, there’s more! Look, there’s EVEN MORE!!! OK, sorry, Pablo, you were saying...

PABLO: It is NOT a nation, it is a tribe. The Hungarians, they were nomads, and they—

SARAH: Dogshit!! More dogshit!!! Sorry.

PABLO: Sarah, are you alright? It’s not so funny.

SARAH: (trying to catch my breath) I’m sorry. It’s really incredible.

PABLO: ...They have come here, the Hungarians, no one knows where they come from. The right wing here, the Nazis, they—

SARAH: DOGSHIT! MORE DOGSHIT! Why???

The doody bonanza continued for the entire avenue-length of the block. There were turds in the spaces behind cars, climbing up walls, trails of little poops that brought Hansel and Gretel to mind.

I put the episode out of mind for a while. Then last week—a full two months later—Rick and I were walking down the SAME STREET, and there was STILL dog turds there. Or was it NEW poop?

Is this where wild dogs with dysentary go to die? Why is all the poo on one side of the street—the side with all the peep shows? Why were all the other pedestrians were walking on the other side of the street? Do they know something we don't? What is the secret of Doody utca?

Apparently I'm not the only one who's noticed this problem. Too bad you made the video in English, geniuses!