My friend Laurie and I were walking down Mill Avenue one quiet Friday night. We were on our way to go dancing and cheer up a friend of hers with a fun Girl's Night Out. As we were walking, a dead bird fell from a tree and *barely* missed landing on our heads. Instead, it landed directly in front of us, like the tree was offering the crusty black crow as a gift.
We were both horrified and screamed.
The night afterwards was a mixed bag. The dancing wasn't working. I was picked up on by a drunk and agreessive woman. Our dinner wasn't what we wanted, but we did have a very heartfelt conversation with Laurie's friend and wandered the stores for a while.
The whole night reminded me of a dog that doesn't understand that you don't want the "retrieved gifts" that they bring to your back door. It reminded me of humans that behave in this manner, too.
From that point forward--- any gift that 'means well at your expense' is referred to as a Dead Bird.
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