I saw this girl feeding pigeons outside the L’Esplanade the other day and it instantly transported me back to an experience I had in Athens back in the mid-90s.
I was in Greece for a few weeks with my friends Kathryn and Fiona. We were on the island of Ios most of the time, but we did spend a few days in hot, dirty, crowded Athens.
At one point we were wandering the streets and we found ourselves outside some famous building. I forget which one. It might have been the equivalent of our Parliament Buildings. There was an old man selling birdseed to the tourists, to feed to the pigeons.
I bought some birdseed, and he poured it into my cupped hands. Within seconds, hundreds of pigeons swarmed and landed on me. They coated me, layers of them, with many more frenetically beating the air around me. I was covered in hungry pigeons with their pecking beaks and madly flapping wings. It was freaky.
Meanwhile, the Pigeon Man, in what I thought was intended as a helpful gesture, started arranging my body to provide more landing surface for the pigeons. At the same time, he kept pouring more birdseed into my hands. The pigeons were screaming with joy and I caught a glimpse of my friends, doubled over with laughter. They were laughing so hard they couldn’t even operate the camera.
What they didn’t know was that the Pigeon Man, under cover of multiple layers of pigeons, and under the guise of being helpful, was actually copping a feel. There I was, covered in a feeding frenzy of pigeons, frozen like a statue with arms outstretched, while a dirty old pigeon man fondled my breasts. And it was all transpiring in broad daylight, in a very public place, several feet away from my laughing friends.
The whole situation was so ridiculous I couldn’t even muster up the feminist outrage that seemed at some level appropriate for the occasion. All I could do was laugh. The dirty old pigeon man laughed too. My friends laughed. Even the pigeons laughed. We were all joined together in this crazy little flurry of absurdity under the dirty Athens sun, laughing ourselves silly.
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You just made me laugh out loud! TOOOOOO FUNNY!
What a hilarious story!! One of those surreal moments when travelling. Nasty old diddling pigeon man!
They are everywhere those dirty old men, aren’t they… Coyote should add them to his menu…
I was already laughing and then I let out a screeching GAH noise and choked on my apple when you got to the fondling part. Oh my god!! So ridiculous and hilarious and wrong (yet strangely right).
I’ll never forget feeding the pigeons in Trafalgar Square. I was thrilled by the gentle way they ate the grain and the way their feet felt like little hands gripping my fingers. I’m glad I wasn’t groped; my experience was more benign. But a few days later, on that same trip to England, a dirty young man exposed himself to my 15 year old daughter. We were both a little shaken by that.
So the hot dog man is still there! Is it the same guy? I loved those hot dogs. Was he out there all winter too?
I remember being fondled by a museum guard in NZ when I was a preteen. he lifted me up to peer into a sarcophagus and copped a feel while he was at it. what a dirty old prick. was too scared to say anything at the time and never told my parents. Ugh.
but your story was funny
Oh dear. I can not really think of anything I would like less than being simultaneously covered in pigeons and groped. (well actually there are quite a few worse things that could happen, but the pigeon/grope scenario really does not appeal).
EEEEEeeeewwwwWWWWW
Really, the only thing the pigeon/groping experience had going for it was its absurdity, which saved it from being just another groping experience.
Andrew, yup, that’s Terry Scanlon the hotdog vendor. He’s been out there for at least 25 years now. Year round. (I heard that the tax man caught up with him recently and he has to pay $50,000 in back taxes…that’s a lot of hotdogs.)