Well I think I may have passed 2 or 3 of the “You’ve lived in the city too long when…” tests.
You know you’ve lived in the city too long when you ignore the foreboding warning of personal doom.
Living in Chicago you get used to crazy people. But the other day when I was walking from the L to the office I met one that was rather unique. On a nice clear morning along a nice, well traveled sidewalk I pass the crazy, and I swear I hear him pleadingly squeak (in the creepiest voice ever) “…turn back.”Now like I said I’m pretty used to crazy people…they don’t usually bother anyone. But no matter how bright the morning, or familiar the street, and no matter how common place the crazies have become… I’m not sure if I can describe how very eerie it is to have one of them warn you to “turn back”.
But I ignored him and went on my way. Thankfully, nothing more terrible than an unpleasant desert experience at lunch happened that day — though that is a story for another time…like after I’m dead and gone. But the point here is I ignored the warning completely - trusting in his craziness. Evidence, perhaps, of my having lived in a big city for too long.
You know you’ve lived in the city too long when you laugh in the face of pigeons.
For those of you who don’t live in a city swarming with pigeons, let me explain something to you… pigeons are simply rats with wings.I think I first discovered this with “The Crack Pigeon” incident on my first day working in the city. Ever since I’ve had a hate-hate relationship the little winged beasts.
Today while walking from the L to the office I was text paging a friend when from out of nowhere a pigeon flies up at me from the ground! Having survived one pigeon attack already in life — which was on the scale of Hitchcock’s “The Birds” — I think I was relatively numb to this single, albeit filthy, attacker.
However I may have underestimated this bird. It flew up to me and just kind of…hovered…right in front of my face. (Who knew pigeons can hover?! Clearly this was some super-space-mutant-pigeon here to finish off what it’s minions had failed to do the last time.) I didn’t even flinch. I mean, in the past I would have dived out of the way…maybe even yelled. But, I just stood there and sent it the best “You do NOT want to fuck with me” vibe I could. Now the absurdity of trusting in a dolittle-like telepathy aside…it worked. The flying rodent hovered itself backward and then away from me. Fearless hatred for pigeons…another sign that you’ve been in the city for too long.
