Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Stupid birds 

Mondays are a day of the week that should cease to exist. While there must be a first day of the work week (unless you are unlucky enough to work every day...right Brandon?) I don't think it should be Monday. The option should remain eternally open to avoid this day at all costs.

Why the attitude? Well, I'll tell you.

This morning I walked to work. After crossing the Willamette I head south along the water front to my office. The stretch right off the bridge is through a grassy field; right through the middle of the morning feeding area of the local lazy goose population.

Doing my best Tippi Hedren impersonation, I tiptoed through the inquisitive birds, trying not to ruffle any feathers (snort!). They all turned to watch and began to circle. First, a bird on my left began hissing and advancing, wings at the ready. A bird off to my right joined the call and advanced in a similar fashion. The Right Guard was ready and headed off on a flanking pattern closing me in from behind. Nonplussed (I pretended), I continued on my way, bebopping to some Jackson 5.

Suddenly, I felt a nip on my right calf. Prepared for battle I turned and was menaced by at least a dozen hopping flopping and hissing geese. I stopped. Slowly turned around and found myself completely surrounded; I made eye contact with the maintenance guy for the waterfront shops. He was standing, jaw dropped and leaf blower forgotten. Smirking in realization of the seriousness, yet hilarious, plight within which I found myself I flipped the ipod to a little Back in Black, ACDC style and I made ready.

They sensed it coming but were powerless to repel me. I came out swinging. I caught one of the bastards right on the chin and he dropped to the ground dazed. The others paused and even backed off a step in apparent surprise. That second was all I needed and I took off running. Following suit, a flock on honkers bounded after me some flying some running others standing around making noise and looking confused. My hair was pulled, my ears were nipped and my backpack began to tear. Angus propelled me on and I made for the maintenance guy whose leaf blower was now being raised with real meaning.

As I passed by the leaf blower sprang to life and stopped the flock cold. Backing off to a safe distance, they stared and shouted their threats. I yelled mine back (much to the consternation of the older couple eating breakfast on the balcony above me), thanked my aide and headed to work.

As if this all wasn't bad enough, I got called out in the staff meeting for smelling like goose shit. There's no justice in the world!

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Name: Corey
Location: Portland, Oregon, United States

I'm on a journey with no destination. The path is constantly changing direction but there are always adventures to be had. "Never" and "always" have left my lexicon.

WWW http:/www.jimspeak.blogspot.com