For years, WH has said I remind him of Elaine Benes from Seinfeld. Played by the incomparable Julia Luis-Dreyfuss, I always took it as a compliment. Of course, he also always teases me about my abnormally large head. Devotees of Seinfeld will know where I'm going with this, but for the rest of you, just read on.
Ever since we moved last month, I've had largely uneventful walks to and from work each day. Aside from one day when I saw a hipster bend over and his pants fall down revealing a little bit of buttcrack, there hasn't been anything really out of the ordinary. Until today, of course.
I was walking the four blocks to my office, in a state somewhere between lost in thought and caffeine-deprived, when it happened. A bird.Flew.Into.My.Head. It was one of those this-would-only-happen-to-me moments. I'm pretty sure I jumped up in the air, flapped my arms and muttered something along the lines of, "Jesus Christ!" I can tell you this, it scared the hell out of me. It made me feel dirty and afraid I had been pooped on. I worried that I might contract some sort of poultry-borne illness. But mostly, I just felt like an asshole. I mean, besides Elaine Benes, who does something like that happen to? Oh, wait, me. Duh.
Figures. It was Monday after all. And let me tell you, sometimes, if I concentrate real hard, I can still hear the flapping . . .