Winter is over. It’s May Day, for crying out loud. The snow has melted and the leaves have been raked up and the air is fresh or should or even could be but it isn’t wirklich (really). It could be if weren’t for a certain problem I have in front of the building in which I live. I don’t know about your building or neighborhood so I’ll just assume that it’s only a problem here. You see, nobody rakes up some other important stuff that they are supposed to rake up around here when the snow and the leaves aren’t covering it anymore. When they own dogs, I mean. You know, dog mines.

Go ahead and laugh if you want to, but until you’ve detonated one yourself, you will never really understand the insidious evil these hidden dangers present to all of us – who live in Berlin, that is. They pop (poop?) up out of nowhere, these dog mines. These German dog mines. These friggin German dog mines, I mean. I stepped on one just last night and I’m mad as hell. You can’t see them. Okay, I can’t see them. I don’t expect them, I should say, and that’s why I can’t see them, I guess. I think they’re camouflaged or something, though. Or maybe they fit them into the sidewalk or bury them just underneath the top layer of concrete or toss them at you out of nowhere when you least expect it or something. I give up. I don’t know how they do it, but it’s absolutely diabolical.