I’ve made a full-blown and outrageous conclusion – you should never trust a seagull.
They sit on the beach near your designated picnic possie, with one or two standing guard. Kind of stand-offish, but close enough to see those beady eyes giving you some hard out evils. You innocently take out a strawberry, ready to pop it into your mouth for a full flavourful hit. That damn seagull inches inwards and his mates are not far behind. Flapping and swooping because they reckon they are in with a chance….. like a mini-skirted 20-something sashaying through a testosterone-fuelled bachelor party. All of a sudden you are surrounded by the crapping and squawking winged beasts. You flip them the bird (every pun intended) and tell them where to go, as they kamikaze duck n’ dive.
Why me? Do they have a feline sense of knowing when you don’t like them, so they hang around?
I’ve had a few seagull-related incidences in my time. A mother and sister I shall not name, came and purposefully threw chips at me…. so the seagulls could taunt me. They’d made a Survivor–like alliance with the gulls & I was not happy.
I have also been innocently going for my evening walk along the beach. A seagull will throw over a ‘if only looks could kill’ gaze. Its mates would join in too. It feels like I’ve walked through the Chinese parliamentary buildings with ‘Free Tibet’ tattooed across my forehead. I can’t turn my back, cause I know they’ve got their stealth arrow-birdmen & I’m their walking target practice.
But, I think I’ve stood my ground enough times to let them know who is boss. They’ve spread the word that you can’t mess with me, because I’ll dish it straight back. They now give me a wide berth on my evening beach walks & I have finally got the power!