Le Fin Du Monde.

Editor’s Note: This was actually written some time ago. Forgot to hit the “Publish Post” button.

Eh, details.


Oddity for the day:

Walking toward Broadway. Hear the unmistakable sounds of seagulls. Many seagulls.

I look up.

Many, many seagulls.

Um…this was downtown, not Elliott Bay.

Maybe one or two errant birds, okay. But these things had lined themselves up like a chorus line on the rooftops of several buildings for over a block.

Ever see that scene in “The Day After Tomorrow” where the birds, knowing what’s up, flee en masse from the seas inland in order to avoid impending meteorological disaster? I did.

I wondered if the plague of locusts was far behind.

Pedestrians and bus stop denizens were just as rapt and puzzled as I. As we observed they would rapidly perch then flee in perfect sync. When nature behaves in such a bizarre way it tends to make me edgy.

Then I saw the massive horde congealing as a single avian unit in one very specific place.

Dick’s Drive-In burger joint.

Venture to say tomorrow morning there is a 42-foot radius of seagull excrement icing the structures and pavement around and including the illustrious Dick’s Drive-In. Hope that panhandling artist guy brought a sturdy umbrella.

Barman: Did you say the end of the world is coming? Shouldn’t we all lay down on the floor or put paper bags over our heads?

Ford Prefect: If you wish.

Barman: Will it help?

Ford Prefect: Not at all.

Voulez-voulez-vous mieux vaut tard que jamais.

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