How a perfectly normal saturday evening got ruined by a bird.

So the most unlikely thing I’d expected to happen today, was the bird crashing into my head.
Here’s the story.

I was riding my bike home like a perfectly normal Saturday evening. I was listening Friendly Fires like a perfectly normal Saturday evening. I’d been working all day long like a perfectly normal Saturday evening. I’d been folding clothes all day long like a perfectly normal Saturday evening. I’d been yelling at customers for messing up the piles of clothes all day long I’d been folding on for the past 87 hours like a perfectly normal Saturday evening.

And then, something very odd happened. Something that wouldn’t happen on a perfectly normal Saturday evening. This Daffy Duck took a flight and the moment I realized he was not going to give me any right of way, he hit me on the temple like BAM.

At first I was like: “did that actually happen?” Afterwards I started thinking: “the hairdo I’d been blow-drying, hair spraying and brushing on all morning; the hairdo that survived the trip on my bike through the rain, snow and wind; the exact hairdo I’d been wearing since 8 o’clock this morning; such a hairdo doesn’t all the sudden transform into a hairdo, that looks like I’ve been electrified, by itself.”

In those little moments I also realized how ridiculous the whole bird-affaire must have looked. Quickly I scanned the neighborhood for witnesses. If there are any, they must be killed. Luckily for me, I live in a town where 6 o’clock is the time when every civilized citizen is nowhere but the dinner table.