a story and conversation repository (est. 2000)
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a story and conversation repository (est. 2000)
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Part 1: War is Waged
Several years ago Mike and Lisa came to Saint Louis to hang out over the 4th of July holiday. On their first day here we decided to head down to the Gateway Arch (typical St. Lou fare). After getting our tickets and finding we had a few hours to burn before our ascent, we opted to head over to the landing to pass the time at the video arcade museum. On the way there we're just rapping about this and that when I feel something on my head. A initially shirk it off thinking it's a bug or my convuluted hair going through a growth spurt. Mike and Lisa both turn to me though and tell me that there's a bird attacking my head. I start swiping at it with my hands but it keeps coming. I can feel its scratchy claws scraping against my hat. Mike and Lisa just back up and watch my antics, laughing all the while. I ducked and bobbed my head, swatting at the air but it wouldn't quit so I took off running. Once I cleared the fray, we deduced that it wanted my CU hat for some sort of extra efficient nest fodder and disregarded it as some fluke of nature and went about our way. In my duress I had not considered my escape route well and lead us down a dead end. Given this we simply turned around to get back on course. We're walking and talking for a little bit when the bird returns, resuming his quest for my headwear. This time I duck behind Mike, crouching around his waist and hanging onto his belt as I bobbed and dodged the bird's offensive. "Get off of me!" "The bird's after my hat not you, just hold still." Well, it turns out that our initial assessment was wrong in that crazy bird starts attacking Mike, which he's less than pleased about not being a very granola type of fellow. Now he's swinging around his head and trying to pull away from me but I'm holding onto his belt serving as an anchor for his escape. Finally, Mike broke free and bolts forward leaving me without any form of cover and just crouching like hobbled prey. Upon realizing this I take off in the opposite direction. Lisa meanwhile split the difference and ran in yet another direction and we scatter like gazelles. After running about 50 feet, I pull up and turn around, leaning with my hands on my knees and winded. I see Mike still running away with a vigor I've never before seen in him. I quickly perused the sky and perfectly spied the bird dive-bombing towards Mike. It was absolutely like something out of a Hitchcock film. "Mike! The Bird! Watch out, it's coming!" Mike keeps running and the bird keeps closing until I see the bird land on Mike's head, latch onto his hair and start madly pecking at him. Mike, still running, throws his hands up and starts swatting at his head. The bird proves undeterred though when suddenly Mike bellows savagely and lurches forward. Now I don't really know how to describe the path Mike's body took. It would most closely be compared to a complete back-flip with a half-gainer in the middle. Bottom-line is he fell forward but his feet came up from behind over his head and deposited him hard on his back. After soaking in this Romanian like maneuver by this very un-Romanian like frame, I immediately started howling with laughter as any who know me would expect. |
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