Scene – In a supermarket parking lot, a middle-aged man ambles past a trolley shelter towards the stores entrance. The fella distracted by a game he’s playing on his mobile device; a challenge he’s recently become addicted to. Carelessly not looking ahead, he foolishly introduces the jeopardy of being mowed down by a vehicle (or trolley) in this busy car park.
Heading toward the store doors, the bespectacled chap is oblivious to the fact he’s about to stroll into the path of two inflight crows. Consequently, he is somewhat startled when this low flying duo catch him around the head with their wing feathers; stopping him in his tracks.
Looking left, he witnesses the avian protagonists land unceremoniously atop a trolley shelter. The still dazed Yorkshireman mutters “Little bastards!” under his breath; the charcoal hued birds squawking back in his direction. Unable to speak crow, the middle-aged man (me) is unsure of their sentiments. However, he suspects if he could decipher their polemic it would translate into English as “Watch where you’re going, four eyes!!”
After a brief impasse, where I exchange disdainful looks with the crows, yours truly proceeded with my store bound journey. While crossing the threshold into ASDA I replayed events from the recent ‘bird attack’ in my mind.
To be fair, dubbing it a ‘bird attack’ is somewhat embellishing the severity of the incident. After all, it was barely the ferocious avian charge endured by Tippi Hedgehog’s character in Hitchcock’s 1963 movie The Birds. If truth be told, I suspect the crows clipping my head mid-flight were merely chasing each other; yours truly inadvertently caught in their crossfire.
Footnote – Yes, I know the lead actor in Hitch’s macabre 1960’s offering was called Tippi Hedren. I afforded her the dubious surname of Hedgehog in tribute to an idiosyncratic friend who once inadvertently addressed her as such.
As alluded to above, upon entering the store shortly afterwards, I replayed this avian collision over in my mind. Among the notions evoked those of a classic Father Ted comedy episode where drunken Father Jack is repeatedly subjected to crows stealing his specs. Scenes resulting in the hapless Irish cleric having to visit a mainland optician to replace his pilfered gigs.
Mercifully, I escaped the ignominy of having my glasses robbed by a mischievous crow. However, even if the black feathered scoundrels had nicked my specs, as this large supermarket has an instore optician, it wouldn’t require a long sojourn to get them replaced.
Having said that, I’d have not been overly enamoured at having to fork out for replacement spectacles as the consequence of avian theft. For one thing, I’ve scoured my insurance policies and am unable to locate any cover in the event of such an episode. Consequently, if I’d suffered a similar fate to Father Jack, my pension pot may have to take the brunt of the loss.
Crows seem to have been at the forefront of my mind of late. Only last week, during a discussion with my beau Sarah about forthcoming dramas on terrestrial TV (or council telly as she calls it), she revealed a desire to watch an upcoming drama on ITV. With trademark stupidity I randomly asked, “Is the upcoming drama about crows?” She responded “Do you know what, Gaz. I think it is!”
Having plucked that absurd enquiry from nowhere, I was utterly amazed at my guessing prowess. Particularly, after this dubious and deliberately silly verbal interaction came minutes after the following exchange about another drama series: –
Sarah – “I tell you what Gaz, I watched a really good drama on ITVX last night.”
Me – “Yeah?… What was it called?”
Sarah – “I can’t remember. All I can recall is it’s a fella’s name.”
Upon hearing this I thought I’d mischievously embark upon a strategy of reeling off random male monikers. A plan I deemed would be a hoot, irrespective of how much it irritated the Ossett lass. Leading to the our exchange progressing as follows:-
Me – “Was the drama called Adam?”
Sarah – “No… And don’t burn my brain by reeling off loads of bloke’s names, Gaz!”
Me (randomly asking) – “Was it called Archie?!”
Sarah – “Do you know what, Gaz. I think it was!”
Sarah and I chuckled in astonishment at me guessing the eponymous name of the drama’s main protagonist on only a second stab (from the hundreds of options available).
So fast forward a few minutes imagine my bewilderment when I asked, “Is the upcoming drama about crows?”to hear a response of “Do you know what, Gaz. I think it is!”
At that juncture, with two absurd random questions acquiring such unbelievable reactions, I was wondering what sort of witchcraft I was currently involved in. What magic within the ether was affording me such prevailing serendipity when guessing answers. Assumptions which I wasn’t even attempting to get correct; my throw away utterances merely random responses aimed at making Sarah despair at my silliness.
Yours truly also mulling over whether I could put my newfoiund outlandish foresight to positive use. For instance, by presuming the successful lottery numbers, or locating my favourite underpants. The latter going missing at the weekend around the same time I purchased a pet giant moth.
While all these thoughts swirled around my neurological corridors with the vigour of an epileptic Tasmanian Devil, unbeknown to me Sarah had been undertaking research on her phone. These investigations unearthing she’d been mistaken, and the forthcoming ITV drama related to a topic of children inadvertently swapped at birth, not crows.
Although that nugget explained away any soothsaying on my part for one incident, how the f*ck I managed to guess the eponymous drama was called Archie on a second attempt remains a mystery.
Anyhow, to bring this narrative to a denouement, on my way out of the supermarket the crows swooped and left towards Crigglestone with my specs. A move necessitating a quick about turn; me re-entering the store to purchase some new gigs… Can anyone lend me £99 until my pension hits my bank account? 😉
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