Golden Retriev-him

I followed this thin leggy girl up the stairs from the subway. Her legs were much longer than mine so she walked a lot faster, and after a block she was a good 30 paces ahead. I cursed her and her long legs and me and my short legs and thought about how much further I could go in life with limbs like that. She suddenly stopped and I thought, “Good, now I can catch up and pass her and show her I’m not as slow as she thinks.” But I quickly forgot the competition as she reached into her bag, pulled out a black hooded sweatshirt, and held it up to her face. She took a long, deep inhale. Then she looked around, sniffed the air, and continued walking down the street.

After the next block, she stopped at the corner and inhaled the sweatshirt again. She looked like she was about to cross to the right. She took a few steps in that direction and then came back, sniffed again, and continued straight. I followed behind her, slow enough so that when she stopped I wouldn’t pass by, until she finally turned left. I waited at the corner and pretended to get a phone call that held me in my place. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her take one last deep inhale of the sweatshirt and then turn her head upward and do the same before she approached an apartment door. There were 3 buzzers for the 3 different floors. She put her face close to the buttons and sniffed, stopping at the top one. She pressed it and in a few seconds a male’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Hello?”

“Hi, um, I’m not sure if I have the right person, but I think I have your sweatshirt.”

There was a pause, then a confused “What?”

“Your sweat shirt,” she repeated, drawing out each syllable. “You left it at Roger’s Bar last night.”

Another pause. “Hang on. I’m coming down.”

The girl had an odd smile on her face as she (and I, from a distance), waited for this man to appear. The apartment door opened but I couldn’t see the man from where I was standing. Luckily, I could hear him.

“Can I help you?”

“Hi, I think this sweatshirt belongs to you. You left it at the bar last night. Roger’s Bar, over on Hall Street.”

“Oh,” said a hesitant voice, “I did? I guess I did, that is mine. Thanks. Do you work there?”

“Me? No. I just happened to notice you there last night. I’m Amy.” She stuck her hand into the doorway and gave him this sweet, almost sickening smile. “I wanted to come talk to you but by the time I worked up the nerve, all that was left was this.” She held up the sweatshirt that I had seen her bury her nose in several times in the last half hour.

“How did you know where I live?” He asked, confused.

“Oh, I asked around if anyone knew you. Anyway, do you go there a lot? I was actually going there again this weekend with some friends and I was wondering…”

He cut her off. “But the only person who knows where I live at that bar was my friend who left with me. Who said I lived here?”

Amy looked put off, as if no one had ever dared question her before. “I don’t know, some guy…older, he said he knew you.” Her answer sounded so vague.

“But I don’t know anyone else there except by sight. I’ve never talked to anyone except the bartender, and he definitely doesn’t know where I live.” His voice was became loud and aggravated.  “Seriously, how the hell did you find my address?”

“Jesus, sorry!” She snapped back. “I was just trying to do something nice. Forget it.” She started to slowly back away.

“I’m just a little freaked out, is all. I just moved here two months ago. I haven’t even told my own mother my new address. It’s weird.”

“I know it’s weird. You didn’t have to yell at me, though. You can at least say thanks.” She gave a flirtatious little laugh. I couldn’t take it anymore. This girl was clearly lying. I was already annoyed with her long legs, and her petty display put me over the edge. Without really thinking about what I was doing, I turned in their direction and started swiftly walking toward them. I stopped about twenty feet away.

“Hey!” I yelled. They both turned and looked in my direction. “She’s part dog! That’s how she found you! She sniffed you out!”

“What?” said the man.

“Who the hell are you?” asked Amy.

I turned and ran, stirring up a pile of pigeons as I rounded the corner.