Q: Do the seagulls bother you?
A: In a physical sense, no. They keep their distance, as do I. If anything, I’ve always looked up to them. They’re like the garbage trucks of the sky. Giant stomachs with beaks and wings. As a bottom feeder myself, there’s a lot to learn. However, in a metaphysical sense, they’ve been starting to get to me. The other day, as I was out on the Harbor Walk trying to one-throat a crab, I noticed a seagull struggling to fly. It was so windy that despite its desperate flapping, it remained stationary. Unmoving. Trapped. Was this a glitch in the fabric of reality? Was this a sign of my own situation in life? Some kind of allusion to my unhappiness? What did this seagull know that I didn’t? How dare they mock me! How dare they pretend to know more about me than I do! They don’t have a clue! ONLY BOBBY BEACON KNOWS BOBBY BEACON! They…they’re probably right. For the times. For all time. No wings to fly away. Just garbage to eat. Make it stop.