There is a contemporary art gallery on the same block as j-o-b. They often have very strange things in their window displays, but at the moment, there are parakeets! (I suppose these are also strange.) It’s fun to watch them flying about, in what I am sure is a much larger cage than they are used to.
Today, on my way back from getting a friday caffeine treat, I noticed that a punk-rocker-ish boy seemed to be overly interested in the birdies. I was in no hurry to get back to j-o-b, so I paused to watch them for a moment when Punk Rock Boy turned to me with sad, black eyeliner ringed eyes and said, “That bird is stuck.”
Oh no! They have some netting strung just inside the windows, probably so that the birds don’t poop on them, and indeed, a tiny, snow white parakeet was stuck. He was franticly trying to extricate himself and it looked so painful. As we watched, he managed to get free, but now he was stuck on the wrong side of the netting, painfully close to the bird seed sculpture and all of his birdie friends, but unable to reach them. He then, of course, tried to fit his little body through the net and got himself stuck worse than before.
I had been having a fairly tearful day already, so this was probably more distressing to me than it should have been. Thank goodness for Punk Rock Boy and his clear thinking. “Is there a pay phone around here?” he asked, “because there is a number for the galllery right there.” Brilliant, Punk Rock Boy! I whipped out my trusty cell phone and was soon talking to someone inside, who promised to come rescue the bird right away.
Punk Rock Boy and I shared a relieved smile and congratulated ourselves for saving the day. Then his bus came and he was gone forever.
Ah…city living. You gotta love it.
