Only in SoCal: The Doody Dude

I saw this service advertised on the pick-up truck next to me in traffic today: "Doody Dude, the dog poop pick up service."

Has it really come to that? After getting our nails done by a Cambodian and our car washed by a Mexican, after our Ukranian shopper drops of the gift we need for Aunt Tillie's birthday, after the Guatemalan housekeeper has folded and put away the clothes and the Albanian nanny's fed and burped the baby, we come home to a yard cleaned by someone else and a dog groomed by someone else, and rest content in the knowledge that nothing is beyond our ability to delegate to the members of the Third World among us.

Not only that, but we comfort in the eco-friendly knowledge that all this is done with an extra cost to show that we're not just lazy, we're Green: All poop is disposed of properly per county code, and all shoes and equipment are disinfected between stops, the Doody Dude tells us.

I love the entrepreneurship of the Doody Dude. He has apparently found a need and capitalized on it, with services now offered to time-poor, cash-laden, poop-adverse populations throughout LA and OC.

But I don't particularly like the fact that he has a market. Somehow things like this make me feel decidely Roman, feasting and indulging as the Huns gain strength.

Related Tags: Sociology, Southern California