Grudge Week, Part II

Danza asked a good question in yesterday's comments about my grudge against maple syrup; check that out. Maple syrup may be my least favorite item on the planet. If I'm eating pancakes that come with syrup, that's fine; I have no problem with the taste. If someone else is eating pancakes with syrup and they start breathing into my face, then I break out a pitchfork and begin to jab them in the ass with it while screaming profanity. I hate the smell of maple syrup. If an evil overlord ever kidnaps me and wants to know the security code into Powell Fortress, he only needs to eat some pancakes with maple syrup and breath into my face. Not only will he know the security code, but I'll wet myself and begin to hallucinate. I just cannot take that smell. Anyway, I explain the genesis of that whole thing in the comments so go read that if you want.

And that brings me to two more grudges, both of which are against little animals. These hated animals are, drumroll please, squirrels and grackles. I have stories for the two of these. Let's do the squirrel one first. Trinity, my alma mater, is lousy with squirrels; the campus is covered in trees, squirrels live in trees, thus I was surrounded at all times. At first, this was no problem. I could walk around the campus and giggle at the squirrels without wanting to shriek and dive into a drainage ditch. Over time, I discovered that the squirrels, being around people all day, were used to human contact. To them, it was no big deal. In fact, they got really, really close to you as you walked. They'd follow beside you on foot and they'd run along tree limbs right over your head.

Slowly, I began to worry that one day, a squirrel would jump from a limb, land on me, and start biting my face. I don't know why that sprung to mind, but the squirrels were just so close. It seemed like it'd be too tempting for them not to do that. After I had that lodged in my mind, I spent the next 3.5 years running across campus, covering my face in my hands. To this day, I dislike it when a squirrel is too clsoe to me.

Now, the grackle thing. A few years ago, I went to lunch at Taco Cabana (fast food Tex Mex, for those who've never seen one). I was having a bad day and so I ordered a surefire pick-me-up: nachos. I took the nachos out to the patio, set them down on the table, and got ready to dig in. Unfortunately, before I could start eating, I noticed that I didn't have any napkins. The messiness to food ratio on nachos is incredibly high, maybe the record, so I went back in to the restaurant to grab some paper. I was gone maybe 30 seconds and when I came back, my table was absolutely covered in grackles. The grackles were eating my damn nachos. I don't know if grackles just naturally flock to nachos, but they were going to town on those things. I expected one to ask me for some jalepenos.

I got mad. I'm not sure how to scare birds away without firearms, so I just ran up to the table and started screaming at them. Here's the thing: they wouldn't leave the table OR stop eating; it's like they enjoyed tormenting me. I didn't want to touch them since they have beaks and they probably dip those beaks into animal carcasses or something. (If I'm getting Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, it's not from fighting the grackles at Taco Cabana). Since I couldn't touch them, I just screamed more. The whole patio was empty except for me and the birds, so I couldn't call for back-up. Eventually, the birds got full and left. The little bit that was left was covered in grackle germs.

I went inside, back to the cashier to explain the situation.

"Hi, I bought some nachos just a second ago. I took them outside to eat on the patio, and while I was in here getting some napkins, a bunch of grackles swarmed the table and ate a bunch of my food," I said.

"Uhhh, what?"

I explained the situation again in more detail, and when I finished, the cashier squinted her eyes, shook her head, and said, "Man, that's gross."

"Since I didn't get to eat the food, can I have another order of nachos for free?"

She conferred with her manager. He eyed me warily. The verdict, of course, was no. And this is why I hate grackles. Not because they ate my food and refused to leave, but because they did so in an improbable-enough fashion that I couldn't get a refund or more food for free.

Posted by Cody at January 19, 2006 08:17 PM