Walking home from the potluck last weekend, I cut across the Strathcona High School sports field on my way back to our apartment. A group of college-aged men were walking up the sidewalk on the other side of the street. They suddenly stopped by a nice house on the corner and started talking about how nice a house it was. One of the guys was particularly taken by the patio. "Man, that's a nice patio," he said. "Can you imagine, coming home every day, sitting out there, having a couple of beers?" The rest of his friends nodded in agreement.
As I crossed the street, I looked back at the men, who were still standing by the house and extolling its virtues. And then I saw that the reason that they had stopped in the first place was because two of them were pissing on the fence.