Scene: Duck Blind #2
My friend and I are sitting at the far end of the duck blind. A young woman in her mid-20s is meditatively seated at the other end of the blind with tiny but expensive high powered binoculars in hand. She's attractive, but a bit prissy in a smug "I'm now at one with nature. Do you see me being at one with nature? By the way, I only eat organic food" kind of way.
Friend: Hey, are those female buffleheads?Me: Are those the small brown ones with the deformed skulls?
Friend: They're not deformed.
Me: Their heads are practically square.
Friend: Like all females.
Me: Nice one. Die, asshole.
Friend: hehehe!
[shocked stare from the young woman]
Friend: Hmm. A couple of those buffleheads could be males who don't have their colours yet.
Me: Older women with younger men? Those ducks are cougars? Woo-hoo! You go, girls!
Friend: Yep, I'm pretty sure that there's a couple of immature males in that flock.
Me: [grins]
Friend: Yes, yes, I know. "All men are immature."
Me: Admitting it is the first step to recovery.
[Friend smacks me on the shoulder]
Me: Ow! Quit it! [I smack him back]
Friend: You quit it!
[flurry of smacks back and forth. Young woman sniffs in our general direction, leaves duck blind. Older couple enter the blind. They whisper in low, reverent tones "look! Over there. A mated wood duck pair..." My friend checks out the water.]
Friend: Hey, look. There's a trio of wood ducks over there. Do you see 'em?Me: Hang on. [scans water with binos] Okay. Yep. I see 'em. One male, two females.
Friend: Oooh! Lucky guy.
Me: Luckier than you.
Friend: Ha, ha, bitch. Nice one.
Me: I try! [grins]
[couple stops whispering and stares their disapproval]
Friend: Actually, I've never seen two females wood ducks stalk one male before. They're usually in pairs at this time of year.
Me: Maybe the odd one out is trying to poach the male?
Friend: You mean the extra female is a nest-wrecker?
Me: Sure. Maybe her guy got eaten. Or maybe he was the "hump 'em and dump 'em" type.
Friend: So she's trying to jump some other female's mate?
Me: Hey man, survival of the fittest.
Friend: [blows a raspberry] Pbbbtt! NEST-WRECKER! Floozy! Pbbbtt!
[bench scrapes back suddenly. Couple grumbles audibly and leaves in a huff.]
Scene: Path along the dike. We're trying to entice black cap chickadees to eat from our hand. They're nowhere to be found. (Prolly gettin' bizzy!)
[liquid musical bird chirps]
Friend: Ah, I really love bird song. Doesn't it sound great?
Me: You know what they're saying, don't you?
Friend: They're just singing because they're happy it's spring, aren't they?
Me: Nope. They're saying "Fuck off. This is my turf."
Friend: What?!
Me: Well, sure! Songbirds are ubër-territorial during mating season.
Friend: ... I don't believe you.
Me: Well...alright. They might not be saying "fuck off, get your own tree." They could be also be saying "Yo, girl! Whassup? Yeah, dat's right. I'm sex-aaaay!"
Friend: They are NOT saying that.
Me: Or they could be saying "See how pretty my song is? Somebody, please...take me home!! I want to get laaaaaaid. "
Friend: .... [stares at me and shakes his head]
Friend: I don't know why I come here with you.[multiple bird chirps]
Me: Ooh, that one sounded pretty angry. I'm pretty sure he said "back off or you're getting the beat down, bitch!"
Friend: I'm leaving now.
