Bird Brain

Everyday on my way to and from work I pass a small supermarket called Aldi. For those not in the know Aldi is a grocery chain here in the Land of Lincoln that provides very little variety. I have never been in one because, like all good Americans, I feel like more is better and better is good.

In my daily commutes when I pass the Aldi on Milwaukee I hear a shreiking like nothing I have ever experienced before. It sounds like a pterodactyl the size of chihuahua or a mix between a monkey and a crow. I'm sure it's a bird but not one I would ever want to come in contact with. I am surprised that the managers of this Aldi have not done something to get rid of the awful sounding feathered creature and then I remember the dive bombing bird.

Years ago I had a job in Rosemont IL (the last stop on the Blueline before O'Hare) and I did an atrocious backwards commute outside of the city an hour each way. It turned my 8 hour work day into a 10 and sometimes 11 hour day. The only good thing about commuting on the train is that you do have that time to do whatever you want. Listen to music, read a book, call your mom whereas if one is driving these activities would not be possible. I don't know about you guys but conversations with my mom require my undivided attention! :) After my hour long locomotive "me" time I would walk about a quarter mile under an over pass and around a wall of trees to a small collection of tall office buildings. The job was sufficient, although not very exciting, but I enjoyed my co-workers.

On my third day of work I was leaving in the late afternoon and as I walked by that large wall of pines something scratched me on the top of my head. I was startled, as most people are when something hits you in the head, but I was certain it was a pine cone and continued moving. A few steps later it came again and harder this time. More than startled this time I ducked, and looking up I caught a glimpse of a small robin-looking bird flitting back in between some branches. She must be protecting her nest, I thought, and made my way home.

The next few weeks the attacks became harsher and more disruptive to my routine. Eventually I was forced to run at top speed by the wall of trees flailing my arms over head. The day I had finally had enough the enraged fowl actually drew blood from my scalp. I called the building manager the minute I entered the office that morning. Dabbing at my head wound with a paper towel I firmly explained that something had to be done about this bird. Laboriously and with a hint of disdain the building manager informed me that the bird was endangered and no matter how many people complained (and I wasn't the first) there was nothing he could do about it. So I started carrying an umbrella and would be fine for a few days until this feathered beast was able to rip a hole in the material. I went through a lot of umbrellas during that time.

I ended up leaving that job, not because of the bird, but now it seems I have a new aviatric nemesis. Perhaps tomorrow I will seek her out and find out why she shrieks so horribly.