Fearless

Driving through my garage requires navigating a 5-tiered mess of people, oversized trucks with their backsides in the lane, confusing signs and the annoying squeal of tires as you round each corner despite how slow you're going.

To top it off, once you reach the top covered floor, Floor 5, where I choose to park in hopes of saving my car a few dings and scratches, you come upon a massive horde of pigeons. Sitting.

In the middle of the lane.

As if that wasn't eerie enough, I swear they followed me over to where I park.

But this morning, I happened to notice one guy milling about all on his own and he reminded me a bit of this guy:

Yeah, buddy. Coo...

And that made it all okay. Creepy birds no more...just the Good Feathers!