This is that bravery thing I wrote about
Tonight, I ended up with a dead bird under the hood of my car.
Let me explain.
A few days ago, I was driving home from work and a flock of birds darted in front of my car. I was pretty sure they all escaped unscathed, and continued to drive around for the past two days under this assumption. In fact, I even told New Guy that I narrowly avoided committing... what is it called when you kill a bird? Ornithicide?
So tonight, New Guy and I were walking out of the restaurant and I suddenly stopped and gasped, staring at my car. There, sticking out of the grill, were two little bird legs. "OH MY GOD!" I shouted from behind my hands which were firmly clapped over my mouth.
"What? Oh. Ohhhh no. Ohhhhhhh nooo. Are you okay?"
I pondered this and was frankly a little appalled by my reaction. "I don't feel bad, exactly, but I feel... grossed out! And also, a part of me thinks it's pretty funny that I've been driving around with this thing on my car for two days!"
He thought for a moment. "Do you have, like, an ice scraper or anything in your car?"
"I do!" I popped my trunk and yanked out my scraper, bracing myself as I walked to the front of my car.
"Do you want me to do it?" he asked.
I shook my head. "As long as it doesn't take much to knock it out of there, I think I can do it."
I got within a foot of the thing and flipped out, holding the ice scraper toward him and shouting, "OH MY GOD I CAN'T DO IT! HERE YOU DO IT I CANNOT DO THIS!"
Obligingly (and probably in part because I was standing on the curb shouting and likely making quite a scene), he took the ice scraper and went to work. I watched for a moment as he poked at the bottom end of the bird. He caught me looking. "Don't watch!" I looked away, but as time passed, I couldn't help but wonder where we were in the whole process. I turned back just in time to see him almost manage to pull the bird out, everything but its head free, and then... then the whole thing disappeared through the slat in the grill.
"Oh!" I said happily. "Did you fix it?"
"Well, it should just drop underneath the car now... Pop your hood and I'll check."
I popped it, he opened it, and we both peered into the car.
"Uh oh," I said.
Now, most cars have an open grill. Whatever gets through it drops underneath the car. My car, for whatever reason, has a little enclosed space behind the grill, and only a small opening to that enclosed space (an opening much smaller than a dead bird, and much MUCH smaller than an ice scraper) from the top. Therefore, the dead bird is now pretty much encased in my car.
"I just poked a dead bird into your car. That was kind of a dick move, wasn't it?"
Nah. It's actually one of the nicest things anyone's ever done for me.
Let me explain.
A few days ago, I was driving home from work and a flock of birds darted in front of my car. I was pretty sure they all escaped unscathed, and continued to drive around for the past two days under this assumption. In fact, I even told New Guy that I narrowly avoided committing... what is it called when you kill a bird? Ornithicide?
So tonight, New Guy and I were walking out of the restaurant and I suddenly stopped and gasped, staring at my car. There, sticking out of the grill, were two little bird legs. "OH MY GOD!" I shouted from behind my hands which were firmly clapped over my mouth.
"What? Oh. Ohhhh no. Ohhhhhhh nooo. Are you okay?"
I pondered this and was frankly a little appalled by my reaction. "I don't feel bad, exactly, but I feel... grossed out! And also, a part of me thinks it's pretty funny that I've been driving around with this thing on my car for two days!"
He thought for a moment. "Do you have, like, an ice scraper or anything in your car?"
"I do!" I popped my trunk and yanked out my scraper, bracing myself as I walked to the front of my car.
"Do you want me to do it?" he asked.
I shook my head. "As long as it doesn't take much to knock it out of there, I think I can do it."
I got within a foot of the thing and flipped out, holding the ice scraper toward him and shouting, "OH MY GOD I CAN'T DO IT! HERE YOU DO IT I CANNOT DO THIS!"
Obligingly (and probably in part because I was standing on the curb shouting and likely making quite a scene), he took the ice scraper and went to work. I watched for a moment as he poked at the bottom end of the bird. He caught me looking. "Don't watch!" I looked away, but as time passed, I couldn't help but wonder where we were in the whole process. I turned back just in time to see him almost manage to pull the bird out, everything but its head free, and then... then the whole thing disappeared through the slat in the grill.
"Oh!" I said happily. "Did you fix it?"
"Well, it should just drop underneath the car now... Pop your hood and I'll check."
I popped it, he opened it, and we both peered into the car.
"Uh oh," I said.
Now, most cars have an open grill. Whatever gets through it drops underneath the car. My car, for whatever reason, has a little enclosed space behind the grill, and only a small opening to that enclosed space (an opening much smaller than a dead bird, and much MUCH smaller than an ice scraper) from the top. Therefore, the dead bird is now pretty much encased in my car.
"I just poked a dead bird into your car. That was kind of a dick move, wasn't it?"
Nah. It's actually one of the nicest things anyone's ever done for me.