Violence and Beauty

Sunday, June 13, 2004

And now for something completely different:

I was in the Red Room today, which is a bar, which has a balcony that overlooks some lakes and fields on campus. I was eating fries and aioli with my friend Diana, having pleasant conversation, when this zooming, flapping mass of feathers soars right between us, for no discernable reason. It makes a full loop and lands back where it started. Spooked the hell out of us, but we didn't think anything of it. We were both like, "Whoa. Didn't see that one coming.."

So we get to the bottom of our fries, and I'm eating the second to last one. Now this is a long, crispy, delicious fry, covered in aioli, which is one of the best things I've ever tasted in my life (it's kind of like garlicky mayonnaise, but better). I take a big bite, which is about half of the fry. I'm holding it up between me and Diana while we talk.

Suddenly, the zooming, flapping mass of feathers returns, succeeding in spooking the hell out of both of us again, but a bit less this time. After it leaves, I look forward again.

Then I notice something. My fucking fry is gone. This goddamn bird flew in and stole my fucking fry! I start to scream at it, perhaps angry that I was knocked down a rung on the food chain. "You motherfucker! You fucking bastard bird! I was gonna eat that you fucker!"

I get a good look at this thing finally and it looks like a crow that someone came all over. That makes me angry. And it's got my fry in its mouth. That just makes me angrier.

"I hope you fucking choke on it you, you fucking piece of shit! Fuck you! Fuck you, you son of a bitch!"

Then it swallows.

"Fuck you! I hope you fucking die! You goddamn worthless bastard!"

This group of Australian kids was laughing, and a girl said, "It's okay, we can call the bouncer and get the kookaburra thrown out."

"Kookaburra? That's what that motherfucker is called! You cunt bird! You cunty cunt cunt bird! Fuck you!"

I was going to throw the empty plastic aioli container at it, but I couldn't work up the heart to do it. We get into this staring contest. He's got his head turned so he can stare directly at me with one eye. I lean over the railing to stare at him.

At this point I notice that its bigger than the average cum-covered crow, with a longer beak, and I had these Hitchcockian images of getting my my eyes pecked out. I'll chalk it up to animal sympathy, and not look like a simpering coward, thanks.

Needless to say, I fully plan on eating kookaburra before I go home now.