Once again I will apologize for not posting often and do absolutely nothing to change my course of action. Like most men, I am stuck in my stubborn ways and "too busy" to pay attention to the things that matter most (my blog). I don’t really have anything too interesting to share today other than a realization I had while I was walking around downtown Chicago at 5:00am this past week. Now don't think I'm some sort of crazy party all night coked out girl, I was walking to my job, but either way what I saw was so saddening it really made me reconsider my life.
I was walking on Lake St. minding my own business, trying not to make eye contact with bums and trying to avoid the various nasty cat calls I get while romping around Chicago. However, I could not avoid them all. A man with a CD player....yes he had a CD player. Apparently IPods and IPhones are not his style. Anyways, the man approaches me and asks me about my tan, which seems to be a going trend lately and then he says "I'm not trying to hit on your or anything, but you have really nice legs." I was trying to start out the day with out being a bitch so I just smiled and said thank you (which was really the opposite of what I wanted to say) and continued on my way. As I walked away he said "They match your chest." Now, I'm not sure how things go in Flint, Michigan, but the way to a girl’s heart isn't by complimenting her tits. This story is besides the point....
After I pass Radio (the tard with the CD player) I come upon a baby bird that must have fallen out of its nest in the L tracks. It looked scared and panicked and I felt like I needed to help it. So, like any proud American Citizen would have done, I cornered it so it wouldn't be able to walk into the street. However, that didn't stop it from ending up in the middle of the street. I used my skills and knowledge (that I got in college) to scare the bird back onto the side walk. I probably looked like a crazy creep at 5am dancing around a bird, but I didn't care. I quickly whipped out my IPhone and googled "wildlife rescue" and "animal rescue" to see if there was anywhere in Chicago that would come save this poor bird.
My phone calls were not successful. At that point I had two choices. I could pick up the bird and bring it to work with me at Fox and risk getting some sort of disease from the bird and dying. Or I could leave the bird there and hope it's slut of a mother would come by and guide it. I did number two, mostly because I don't think Fox would have wanted a street bird in their studio and I like to be alive.
I left the bird so upset I wanted to cry, or maybe I wanted to cry because I was on the rag, but either way. After I passed the bird a smelly homeless person was sitting on the street slouched over in his own disgusting clothing with a cup asking for spare change. Naturally I gave him a "you're in this situation because you're lazy" look and strutted on my way. Just then I realized that I would take 20 minutes out of my time to chase a bird onto the sidewalk and call for animal rescue, but I wouldn't give a human being 50cents or even 50 seconds of my time. So I got to thinking why that is. And then I realized it's because as humans we can have some control over our circumstance and situation. Animals really don't have that type of control.
I carried on my day still feeling sorrier for the bird than for the human.
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