What’s the most unexpected thing that ever happened to you?
When I was seventeen, I worked at Taco Time. I drove my dad’s hatchback to work sometimes. (Usually I drove this small yellow pickup truck which one time died on the freeway, many years before the days of cell phones. I ran off the freeway, across several roads to the mall where I pounded on a window of a closed department store until someone let me to use the phone.)
On this particular sunny day, I drove the hatchback with my window rolled down. I pulled up to a stoplight at the intersection close to the freeway when I felt a sort of slap on the side of my head.
I thought perhaps a piece of trash flew through my open window and hit me in the head. As as the light turned green, I swiveled around and saw a bird in the backseat.
That bird had inexplicably flown through my open window, colliding with my left ear before landing in the back of my car. The little bird jerked as small birds do and looked at me with beady eyes and threatened to peck me to death. At least that’s the message I got.
Because we all know that birds of any size are terrifying.
I wanted to fling open my car door and run screaming but instead, I drove to my stepmom’s office where I raced to her desk to beg for help. She walked calmly outside, opened the hatchback and the bird flew away.
Why didn’t I think of that? Oh yeah, because I was seventeen.
I’m not a fan of birds in close proximity.
A few years ago, I bravely took the kids into a Lorakeet exhibit at the zoo. Once inside the enclosure, a Lorakeet dived into my naturally curly hair and became entangled as I stiffly asked a nearby woman, “Uh, can you please help me remove this bird from my hair?”
And then I got out of that exhibit.
So, let’s recap.
Birds belong in trees, in nests, in nature.
Birds do not belong in my car or in my hair.
So, tell me something weird that’s happened to you.
This is not as dramatic as yours, but the Twilight Zone music is definitely in order:
Bren, Hubs, and I were driving in Norfolk, VA about 7 years ago when Bren asked me what my favorite song was when I was her age. I thought for several minutes, trying to remember back that far. It finally came to mind: Elton John’s Philadelphia Freedom. At that point I had not heard the song in many, many years (thanks to my CCM & Country phase).
The moment the title of the song left my lips, it began playing on the radio. It was easily the WEIRDEST thing that has ever happened to me! We still talk about it occasionally and shake our heads in disbelief. [/Twilightzonemusic]
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Birds love to poop on me. When I was 2, my folks took me to the San Diego Zoo, and they had a bird sanctuary. A HUGE bird took a HUGE crap on my little blond head. My mom had to take me in the bathroom and practically bathe me in the sink, and rinse out my dress.
I was pooped on at my friend’s baby shower, which took place in her picturesque backyard. Picturesque and bird-ridden, that is.
I was pooped on, yet again, last year when we went to the beach. A stupid seagull saw fit to dump a load on my head while I sat peacefully staring out at the waves.
I don’t know anyone that can claim as many bird poop incidents in a brief 44 year period of time.
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Not too strange, but still unexpected: a few years ago I was volunteering at the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry, working in the Physics lab like I did every weekend, demonstrating physics principles using some of the equipment in the lab. I happened to notice one gentleman there with his wife, and thought I recognized him. I sidled up, and in true stalker fashion, asked him if he was from California.
“Now, how could you know that?” he returned in a style that told me it was indeed who I thought it was: my sixth grade teacher, from thirty years prior at the elementary school I went to in California.
After letting him know who I was (he remembered me, amazingly enough) and when I was in his class, I told him that his influence was a big reason I was in that museum demonstrating science.
Turns out he was visiting Oregon because his son lives here.
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