an ode to bold pidgeon

you know bold pidgeon. if you’ve ever sat outside at a city restaurant or coffe shop, you’ve met. bold pidgeon walks confidently under your table and searches for his share. most trash birds will flutter away with a little movement or a stern look. they doubt themselves. their self-esteem is fragile. but not bold pidgeon.

bold pigeon is taller and fatter than all the other trash collectors, because he goes forth unafraid and stakes his claim. his feathers are ruffled because he’s been kicked more than a few times, but has not changed his strategy. while lesser pidgeons watch from afar, bold pidgon strides forward and briefly, gently touches against your leg, making you feel as though you want to brush at your leg but also you don’t want to touch it.

bold pideon is american. he is manifest destiny and the american dream rolled into one fat ball of germs and grimy feathers. he doesn’t shoo, he doesn’t back down. he takes his kicks and goes back for seconds. that’s why i salute bold pidgeon when he touches my leg and i feel dirty the rest of the day. i kick him yes, but i also nod at him respectfully before i walk away, acknowledging his american tenacious spirit.

next time you’re at work thinking about asking for that raise, in line thinking about telling off that old lady who cut you, or at the park and you see someone drop a good size piece of bagel on the ground and you kind of want it, close your eyes and channel the spirit of bold pidgeon. feel the american spirit fill your soul and ruffle your feathers. and you go and you get that bagel, ’cause it landed cream cheese up and that’s perfectly edible in our books.