What is this, Bodega Bay?

So today, while standing on the corner minding my own business and waiting patiently for my friend/neighbor/co-worker Janet with whom I usually walk to work, I got attacked by a bird. It was one of those abundant little black birds that I'm fairly certain is a Common Grackle despite the published maps of their range showing them only living east of the Rocky Mountains.

I've seen them divebomb people who get too near a nest before, but seriously, I was nowhere near a tree and if there was a nest in any of the trees close by, there were plenty of other people in the park closer at hand who could have been attacked. But no, there I stood peacefully watching the old folks doing their tai chi when Blam! there was a flutter of wings on my shoulder, a peck at my head, the brush of feathers on my ear. I turned to face my attacker and the thing hovered there momentarily, menacingly looking me in the eye before flapping off and pecking at things in the grass as if nothing had happened.

Ok, so it wasn't birdshit on the shoulder, but this little incident certainly didn't do anything to assuage my fear that the birds have it out for me. Plus, those little fuckers are smart. I once watched as one of those grackles was finishing off a bagel. After it pecked out all the soft squishy goodness, it couldn't get any good bites of the shiny smooth hard outer crust. The thing stared at the bagel for a moment, cocked its head in thought, and I swear I saw the moment the lightbulb came on. It then dragged the crust over to the nearby fountain and dropped it in the puddle where the water was splashing over the side. A few minutes of patient waiting as the bagel soaked up the water softening the crust, and the bird ate the rest of the bagel in bliss as if he'd just dunked his Oreo cookie in a glass of milk.

Be afraid.