SF mem 4

I still had birkenstocks. We were on Valencia for some reason. I stepped on a humongous pile of shit--like horse-size but fresh-dog-poo consistency--maybe one of those horse-dog hybrids. When I stepped in it, I slid about a foot on the worn out sole of my birkenstock. I said wooooohhh as I slid and regained my footing. I scraped that shit like a spatula on frosting and it came that close to coming over the brim of the cork foot bed and smearing my toes. Forever after I watched the sidewalk and discovered all the stencils spraypainted on the pavement.