Today we’re trying something a little different.
My friend Bryan had a story so good it demands a guest spot here on this silly blog.
Ryan has graciously allowed me the distinct privilege of being the next guest blogger. This, perhaps, is not because of how much he loves me, but instead how much he loves this story. So without further adieux, I give you “The Trip that Ran A-Duck.”
I found myself with a few hours to spare on Labor Day, so I thought I might use it to be productive for a change. I’ve been in need of a new shower organizer lately, as my current one has begun to leave some nasty rust marks on the wall. I also needed a new toothbrush holder, because my current one was starting to take on the appearance of a refugee ship. Seeing as Bed, Bath, and Beyond carries above average products at decent rates (thanks to their always present 20% off coupons) it become the destination of choice. Exciting, no, but running an errand rarely is, right? Little could prepare me for the level of “fowlness” in my future, though.
I found myself mostly lost in thought as I drove, because people were driving like 95 year old men and women. The humidity had finally broken, because of the rainstorm the night before, so it was actually bearable outside. Since I haven’t been able to lately, it seemed like I should take advantage of this by cruising with the windows down, we’ll say 65% of the way. I’ve found that the air flow in my direction is maximized at this degree of open. I finally pass the kind people, who have so graciously holding me up, and hit a speed of approximately 40 MPH. Yes, I was speeding, but let’s all be real here, 5 over doesn’t really count. As I rounded one of the sweeping curves along Tomahawk Creek Parkway, something caught my eye…a large duck, and it was headed mostly in my direction.
To my great surprise, the duck managed to slip cleanly though my open window, landing squarely in my lap. As we continued south, a slew of profanities flew loudly from my mouth as it flapped wildly in my face. Not sure what to do, with the animal becoming more and more flustered, I shoved it down to the floor, by my feet, where it continued to flap and stomp around. I wildly threw the car around a turn and into a parking lot. I slammed on the brake, shifted into park, and jumped out of the car with a speed that could rival the fastest humans alive. How I managed to escape without causing an accident is beyond me. Some call it luck; some say that my instincts and reflexes are far above those of average human, but whatever it was, it worked. I only wish I had the view of the car behind me.
Upon exiting the car, I stopped to catch my breath. That was exhilarating. But I couldn’t rest for too long, I had to figure out how to get this bastard out of my car now, as she had now wedged himself behind the pedals. I also noticed she had left a nice piece of shit and accompanying puddle of urine for me to clean, among the countless feathers floating in the air still. As a plan formulates in my head, the duck hears a group of ducks quacking, who I assume must have been her friends because she decided the party behind my pedals was over. Instead of flying through the open door, she makes a break for the other open window, on the other side of the car. This would have been a good plan; however this window was not rolled down far enough for her to get out. Choas ensued once again, as the duck was now losing control of all her “quackalties.” I ran around to the other side of the car, open the door, and jump out of the way, for fears he may dive bomb me. She flies out, leaving more urine on the passenger seat and center console.
I drive away defeated and confused.