HUMOR: Geese are the Worst

by Emerson Morley

National/World Editor

I hate geese. Deeply. In my iron-deficient veins I hate geese. I hate their stupid necks and their fat bodies and their scaly legs. They freak me out and are the sole reason I don’t enjoy walking through Vasona Park. 

However, I found myself strolling through Vasona the other day anyway, listening to depressing music and trying to remember “a better time.” Anyway, I was mid-way through Kyoto by Phoebe Bridgers, feeling incredibly emo and preparing to start wearing eyeliner full time, when a goose crossed my path. Well, he didn’t cross my path; he was just… sitting there. In the middle of the trail. Staring at me. So I stopped and stared at him. If Phoebe Bridgers was there with me in person, she would have been staring too. This dude just kept gazing at me with his dark, beady eyes, giving me more male attention than I’ve had in two months, ruffling his feathers. 

I had to get around him. Somehow. I prepared for action. I gave him a solid ten-foot berth and then jumped like an Olympic high-jumper (despite the fact that I was ten feet away) as if that would intimidate my feathered friend. It did not. He just kept on staring. Now feeling challenged, I did the renegade in an attempt to disrupt him. He did not move a feather. So I had no choice but to break out my life-changing pterodactyl impression. At the top of my lungs, I yelled “SWKWAAAAAAAAAAH,” and flapped my arms as violently as I could. From afar people would have thought it was Dua Lipa dancing. My antics generated not a single movement from this stone cold goose of a unit. So I gave in and walked on. It was only in this moment that I realized every child from ages three through ten on the playground was staring at me, as well as every biker, hiker, and canine until just about the horizon line. I gave everyone the ‘ol pressed-lip “sorry about that” wave and kept on cruising. I don’t regret it. 

As I walked away from my opponent, I got to thinking about geese. They’ve got a lot of confidence for poorly-designed prey animals. Their long noodle necks are plenty of surface area for any fox, wolf, or coyote in their immediate vicinity to snatch. They might be a land and water vehicle, but they sure won’t survive any chihuahua with a short-guy complex. It may be in their best interest to become afraid of something one of these days. If not my pterodactyl impression next time, then maybe a jogger sprinting full speed for their fat, feathered selves.

Categories: Humor, Lifestyle, Web Exclusive

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