Earlier on, I was walking down Pappelallee and had to do a quick sidestep before I stood in a big spilled-curry of a diarrhoea-y dog poo. Thankfully I didn’t step in it. On my way back home, I noticed another fellow doing the same little dance. He was lucky, too.
Fast forward a few hours and the street is dark. That particular stretch of the street has a broken street light. With my earlier jig in mind, I hugged the wall as I went past the poo area. Now, I was in quite a good mood, so when I saw a woman pushing a stroller right in the direction of the poo, I said (in German), “Excuse me-”, and before I could warn her of her imminent shit-covered shoes and/or stroller wheels, she ran off into a sprint, like she’s just come face to face with The Yorkshire Ripper.
I was shocked that I could provoke such a reaction, and watched as she scurried right through the poo zone. One of her feet skidded a little as she did this. Maybe it was a bunch of wet autumn leaves. Maybe not.