Life. It's Really Happening, Isn't It?

There was a time in the youthful Autumnal days of romping with my school chums in the fens and spinneys at university (it's true, look it up) during which my fraternity brothers & I would sit on our fraternity bench very conveniently perched on a small hill about 15 feet high under which approximately 85% of the girls exiting the fining hall were forced to pass as we hurled literal catcalls & whistles and whatever hilarious shit we thought was hilarious at the time (but camon my shit probably was, I'm just being honest); today I find myself sitting at Reston Town Center hoping a dog, any dog, walks by closely enough that I can talk to it, maybe even pet it.