Seven Dead Birds And The Help Yourself Box

Ok, Seven Dead Birds is NOT the name of my new indie emo rock group.

...seven dead birds are in fact what I saw yesterday in the walkway between the theatre and the garage.
Yes.
Seven.
And it wasn't like seven dead birds spread throughout the walkway.
It was seven dead birds all lying dead in a little group as if they were a part of some birdie cult that decided to drink tainted Kool-Aid and commit group suicide.
Creepy, right?
Seeing that many dead birds in such a small area I thought to myself, "Is this a sign for something awful? I feel like I've seen this in a movie or read it in a book before...people start seeing large groupings of dead birds and then...like...the apocalypse is supposed to happen or something."
It was really kind of a disturbing sight to see. I walked by and happened to glance down the walkway, did a double take and went back and looked and probably spent a good three minutes standing there, mouth agape in horror.
I didn’t really want to begin to think about how those seven birds had arrived in their unfortunate state. It’s easy enough to rationalize why one bird would be belly up on the pavement:
“He fell out of his nest and forgot how to fly”
“He had bird flu”
“It was just his time”
"He's just sleeping!!"
But SEVEN?!?
So I went inside, severely disturbed and it might make me a little crazy (which I am, duh) but one of my first thoughts was seriously, “Do birds form cults and perform group suicide because they got sick of waiting for the alien-gods they believe in to come take them home?” Yes. I realize this is highly irrational. But so is thinking a pigeon is faking a broken wing so I’ll feel bad for him and feed him my cookie crumbs. My brain just operates in a slightly irrational manner when it comes to matters where my imagination can get involved.
Anyway. I go inside to work all bothered by the sight of seven dead birds and I tell Audra (aka Chicken) about what I saw.
ME: Chicken! There are seven dead birds outside in the walkway between the garage and the theatre. And they’re all in a little group!! It was the saddest thing ever!
CHICKEN: Again?
ME: It’s happened before??
CHICKEN: Not too long ago there were five dead birds out there. When it gets foggy out they can’t see well and if the lead bird smacks into the wall, they all smack into the wall.
ME: Chicken!??!
CHICKEN: Well, you asked.

…and it’s true. When I went out there on my way home I did indeed see that the seven birds were lying under a bridge that connects the garage to the apartments above the theatre. It was extremely foggy out the other day…they all probably just smacked into the wall of the bridge and didn’t even see it coming.
It still makes me sad. Poor little fellas.


So recently this box of crap has appeared in the box office with the sign, "Help Yourself." Inside is a collection of...well, crap...left over from fundraisers and stuff that we haven't gotten rid of yet. One of the places that donated some stuff to our fundraiser was this...I guess you would call it a sex shop. Well, I don't know if you could call it a sex shop exactly. I mean they sent some stuff that looked like it coulda been bought at Spencers and some of the other stuff was classier than stuff you'd find at Lover's Lane. (Not that I know) (Honestly, I've never been in Lover's Lane...but they just strike me as sort of skiivy).
Anyway.
So one of the special items in the box of crap was from this little...not-quite-sex-shop. It was a package of chocolate body pens. I guess the idea is...(or so I surmised from the illustration on the package) that one is to "draw" with said chocolate pen on the body of one's "lover" and then...lick it off? I guess. Or something.
Uh.
This is awkward.
...so. Chocolate body pens in this box, right? They're supposed to liven up your sex life I guess, what they probably do is make a mess of your bed sheets. I would bet you'd be feeling crusted chocolate in between your covers for days after doing it while licking chocolate off your "lover." Haha...it makes me think of that SNL skit with Will Ferrell and Rachel Dratch.
"I drew pictures of our love all over the nimble sweaty body of my lov-ah."
Haha...ew.
Anyway...so these "pens" are in this "Help Yourself Box" right? And there are a couple of people in the box and we're going through and laughing at the odd assortment of crap in there...and we get to the stuff from the not-quite-sex-shop and someone pulls out the pens.
Now, it's no secret that I am quite the chocolate connoisseur. Hm. That's the wrong word. Fiend it probably more accurate. It's no secret that I am quite the chocolate fiend. So someone pulls out the pens and goes, "Amy, you should take these. You like chocolate."
So, I scoffed for a sec saying I had no reason to take them and no use for them, but she insisted. So I took them. I'd like to paint the picture for you, if I may, as to how this pens will most likely be used:
It's a cold Thursday night.
I'm home alone.
I've just put in a movie for viewing pleasure.
It is probably Elf.
Or The Jerk.
Or Waiting for Guffman.
I've got a glass of Diet Pepsi next to me.
I'm wrapped up in my favorite warm blankie.
My giant stuffed dog-bear sits with me in the chair.
I unwrap a piece of chocolate candy bar.
I take up my chocolate pens and top off my chocolate bar cheez-whiz style.
Except with chocolate instead of cheez-whiz...
...and CHOCOLATE instead of crackers.
Ahh...the good life.


In other news I've noticed something about myself. And that is that all a girl has to do is smile at me and I'm toast. And by toast I mean to say that I blush horribly and send a stupid grin back and then usually have to push up my glasses. And then I usually can't stop smiling for about 5 minutes afterward. Even if the girl is just someone I passed by on the street. If she smiles at me, I continue walking all dorky like thinking, "Dur, she totally smiled at me. I'm such a dork. Look at me being all dorky like."
Yeah.
Wish I was debonair and suave.
So not.
A simple smile renders me powerless. POWERLESS!!!

QUOTE OF THE DAY
(I'm sitting in the box office, doing box office things. We are not open yet. We open at 1:00. It is 12:45. There is a knock at the box door. Normally, I don't answer because I'm a girl and until my co-worker arrives the only soul in the building on Sundays. But it was pretty clear there was someone in the box office because I was moving things around and typing and the like. I look through the peephole and see a woman. So I open the door. She stares at me for a sec.)
ME: Can I help you?
WOMAN: I was hoping you'd open a little early today.
ME: We won't be open early today. We open at one.
WOMAN: So you won't be opening any earlier?
ME: Well, we'll be open in a few minutes.
WOMAN: Oh you will?
ME: Well, yeah it's 12:45 now, so we'll be open in 15.
WOMAN: So no earlier then?
ME: No, sorry.

AUDRA: God willing and the creek don't rise.
(I giggle)
AUDRA: What?
ME: And the creek don't rise?
AUDRA: That's how the phrase goes. Haven't you ever heard it?
ME: No.
AUDRA: Well clearly you never grew up with a creek in your backyard.