Many curious things happened in the park just now. Whilst eating another of those lovely Shake Shack burgers, pondering the greasiness that was so delighting my tongue and confounding my thumbs, I was set upon by a pigeon!
In the past I have been impressed by the wildlife of Madison Square. Just a few moments earlier, sitting on a bench, a squirrel happened by. “Hello Squirrel,” I intoned. “Say hello to the other squirrels for me.”
(That’s not a joke. I actually did that. I was very hungry, and it seemed important to keep myself amused. I then watched it fall into a trashcan.)
But the birds of the park have proven even more compelling than their earthbound cousins. On my first day at this internship, strolling through the sands of the Square, I noticed some fellow lunchers staring into space. There were too many of them for the whole group to be crazy, so I took the time to tilt back my head. On a higher branch of one of the taller trees—a hawk! (I knew it to be a hawk because one of the people standing next to me said, “I think that’s a hawk.” He seemed very well informed, and so I trust him.) He was perched next to a squirrel, whom I wanted him to kill and eat. He did not, but I took his appearance as a good omen for my time in this office.
And then another time, I saw another bird—not a pigeon!—and it was pretty, with nice colored plumage and other such bird qualities. I cannot speak more eloquently—I am clearly no ornithologist. (Or birdothologist, as they are known in layman’s terms.)
So, back to the recent past. You will recall I was sitting by Shake Shack, greasy burger in hand, when I was set upon by a pigeon! (That’s the part from earlier.) It swooped in laterally, attempting to grab my greasy bun with its fowl talons, then leapt back to the chair from whence it came. I was baffled and humiliated, and the man at the next table had seen it all. He leered. I kicked the chair the bird was on, and it flew away.
I ate the burger anyway—I was so excited about it!—and in retrospect, that may not have been the right idea. I don’t know if the bird actually touched my sandwich, but if it did, are pigeons not airborne agents of germ warfare? I fear that birdiseases are already creeping into my intestines—the more I think about it, the more I can feel them squiggling around in there—and that soon I shall either be dead or converted into some kind of bird superhero.
And not Hawkman or that Nite Owl fellow from Watchmen—I’ll be a pigeon superhero. Blessed with the power to eat discarded pretzels! To hang around on statues! To die on the sidewalk and gross out pedestrians! My only weakness? Being chased around by children. These are dark days ahead, blessed readers.
Oh, and the other interesting things I saw?
- A delivery van crunched into the driver’s side of an Acura.
- A three foot piece of particle board floated three stories above 20th Street, battered about by unforgiving wind.
Pigeon Man could have saved it. But he didn’t want to.