There are two kinds of people on any given day; a "People Watcher" and an "I'm Clearly Oblivious." In this instance, I was the "People Watcher" and my co-worker and boss were the "I'm Clearly Oblivious."
It was a beautiful day in Beverly Hills 90210. I was working on a gig where my boss thought it would be a nice treat to take one of my co-workers and I out to lunch in the fashionable neighborhood. As my boss takes his long chest out strides down the sidewalk with my co-worker using his short legs to quickly speed walk aside him as they discuss something work related that clearly doesn't involve me, I attempt to keep up as pedestrians cut me off and I end up walking behind them and then speeding up my short strides so I can be back alongside them as they proceed back to the office. At a pedestrian crossing where we wait for the streetlight to turn and the little white light to beam with the asexual figure, I look to my left to see a woman in Juicy Couture and lots of bling holding what upon first glance looks like a small dog. Obviously an easy conclusion as all Beverly Hills women appear to have a small dog on their arm thinking they're a celebrity, perhaps being one themselves though a D lister, or perhaps parading around as the wife or girlfriend of one. In any case, I look again not completely convinced the animal is a small dog. To my astonishment it's a FREAKIN' GUINEA PIG!
Unable to take my eyes away from this horrific sight and wondering why the hell a woman in Beverly Hills would be carrying a pet guinea pig around, I look around to see if anyone else has noticed. It's as if no one even batted an eye. I mean I've seen the pet goats and pet pigs in Hollywood but never in Beverly Hills. I have no one to share this ungodly sight with and laugh about the ridiculousness of it all. It's like having your mouth sewn together like the zombie in the Halloween flick "Hocus Pocus." I mean it's a guinea pig. These are the horrendous animals that EAT THEIR OWN BABIES. What are they Irish? (No disrespect. Hell, I'm part Irish. Just a little ode to Jonathan Swift's "A Modest Proposal." http://art-bin.com/art/omodest.html)
I'll never forget how my friend had one when we were like ten years old and the mother had eaten one of the babies between the times I slept over and I thought I was gonna lose my shit. These animals are vile. What purpose do they serve except to eat, shit and multiply. They are purely for lower school classrooms with show and tell. Remind me to keep my future children out of those classrooms. Why put them through that kind of trauma or put yourself through the trouble of explaining what happened to the little future baby killer.
Needless to say, Guinea Pig, yeah I'm talking to you, "You Ain't Nothin' But A Baby Killer."
