Last weekend my friend Matt asked if I would come walk his bulldog Tuna while he was watching the Jets get killed 0-7. Or is it 7-0? Either way they were the zero.
Anyways, the hubs and I get to his apartment building and try to find the super who has the key, and who we’ve been told speaks no English. After twenty minutes of walking around the building, knocking on the super’s door we were about to give up. Right as we were debating, “Should we leave? What should we do?” the super walks in the front door.
We get the key, go to Matt’s apartment and take Tuna on a walk. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her with so much energy. Just in case you weren’t aware, bulldogs can pull a small woman down a city block. Not that the small woman was me or anything.
After we returned to Matt’s apartment we decided to let the doggies run a bit on his private terrace.
And then we did the only other natural thing: we snooped around the kitchen. Matt and his twin brother Lee live more like bachelors than I thought was possible. In their freezer literally the only thing is frosty glasses for beer. There isn’t even any frozen pizza in there.
And in their refrigerator all they had were some condiments and a bottle opener. Which apparently was lost until I showed Matt this picture and he said, “That’s where that opener went!”