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The other day, huddled on a bench in the courtyard next to work, whilst adjusting my eyes to the oft forgotten sun and shortly after taking my first bite of my sandwich, (a well made and heavily laden beef sandwich from Cafe Phillips), I had a brief moment of altruism. Breaking, like Jesus, the bread in front of me, I distributed the crumbs amongst the birds surrounding me. Heady with the power I grew more and more ambitious, deciding with a flick of my wrist who was to eat that day. I would wait until some of the birds had grown bored and would reward those birds that were the most persistent. Then I fed only the birds that seemed tired and undernourished, using my righteous aim to drop the crumbs under the beaks of those I favoured. The pigeons got nothing. One particularly brazen, shiny and plucky male sparrow that came too close and was too demanding was regally ignored. On my throne I held the power and I had decided the bread was not for him. That was until he flew up to the branch just above me, took aim and then shat right in my sandwich.
Bloody peasants.
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