Gone in a puff of feathers
I left Austin for the weekend on a weird note. Consider the following:
- While checking my oil at Exxon a couple of bums at the bus stop in front of Randall’s got into a fist fight. From a distance it appeared that the shirtless one was defending the honor of the obese woman who normally panhandles with the sign that testifies to her hunger, which I always find ironic since she has clearly not missed a meal. I smiled to myself thinking it was a mutual drunken slugfest, however a guy from the Taco Bell ran across the road with a golf club to rescue one of the dingy bums, who appeared to be on the defensive. Then I felt bad for laughing since the golf club guy had clearly interpreted the situation in a more sympathetic fashion. Maybe instead of a mutual slugfest it was in fact a case of one homeless guy getting his butt kicked by another who was just jealous about the obese woman? I will never know the details. As I left three of Austin’s finest rolled up to buttonhole the shirtless guy.
- Not five minutes later I was rolling down 183 at 80 mph. I spotted a pigeon, which appeared to be slowing down to land in my lane, the middle lane. I thought, it won’t land because it will see all these cars approaching. Nope. I tried to change into the left lane without swerving since it’s easy to lose control at those speeds, however I smacked the pigeon with a thunk on the right headlight. In the rear view, I saw a puff of feathers and the dead pigeon roll off to the next lane. Dang.
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