Tuesday, November 11, 2008

When Birds Attack...Me!!

I have a fear of birds.

I'm not proud of it. I'm also not ashamed of it. It's not like I cry and wet my pants every time I see a bird. I do--however--flinch, duck, flail, and swat recklessly and--on occasion--squeal like a prepubescent girl when birds fly in my general direction. Needless to say the Mafioso pigeons in Southie did nothing to stifle my fear of all-things ornithological. No, no…those bastards would strut around the streets as if given some sort of territorial rite by Whitey Bulger, Mayor Menino or perhaps Theo Epstein.

Anyway, moving on…the point of this little rant is that I think the birds are up to something. When I left the apartment yesterday all of the suddenly leafless trees along Pine Street were filled to the veritable brim with birds; birds of all sizes, shapes and colors. And every single one of them was going absolutely apeshit!!

My first thought was to assume they’re planning some sort of attack, directed largely at the gangly Iowan who was running and crying at the mere site of the ginormous flock. However, when I returned to Pine Street, the birds were all gone. If coming out of the house to see a bajillion birds ain’t creepy enough…seeing them all vanish in a matter of roughly a half-hour is equally creepy.

Given the disappearing act of the winged-devils, I assumed that my original thought process was clearly flawed. These flying-rats weren’t plotting some sort of elaborate take over of my home, my corndogs, my Playstation and all of the other cool shizzle I’ve got going. No, no…those little buggers were clearly planning to head south for the winter. I can only assume--with the Midwest getting plastered with snow in the last week—that the greater New England region is due for a shot of some serious winter weather and they wanted to get going while the getting was good.

So instead of preparing for an attack and barricading the windows, I simply dug out my winter coat and prepared for an onslaught of winter weather in the now primarily birdless northeast. I had a delicious supper, watched some television and slept like a baby.

…then it happened again.

I stepped outside today on my way to work and what did I find waiting for me in the trees? I’ll give you a hint, it starts with “Abso-f’n-lutely crazy” and ends with “birds.” There they were once more, filling the branches and staring at me whilst squawking their call of doom and, as one might expect, I reacted the only way I know how…by running away with tears streaming down my cheeks.

But don’t feel sorry for me my faithful readers (both of you)…I will survive this harassment at the hands—er, talons? wings?—of my tormentors. Right now I’m trying to file a restraining order against the entire bird population—a process that is proving to be much harder than one might expect—and I am planning to have a racquet and baseball bat at the ready on my walk home.

I don’t know what the next stages of their harassment hold, but believe you me…I’ll be ready…and hiding under my desk until roughly-mid winter. They’ve gotta fly south sometime, right?!

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