So, at work yesterday, Ca. asked me if I would mind giving Lo. one of her friends a drive to the Nish on my way home. I agreed, as it is always nice to have company on the way home. I picked Lo. up after by some miracle finding her house (the directions she gave me included no house numbers just colours of her house and the ones around hers, despite me repeatedly asking for a house number), and piling her stuff into the car. We got on the road, and I was so tired and cranky from work that I wasn't really in the mood to make idle chit-chat, not to mention I am not very good at it on a good day. Most of the trip was spent in silence, which really wasn't troubling to me at all. From the conversations that we did have though, she seemed quite normal...which will be useful later on. We eventually arrived in the Nish, and we found her dad who was picking her up. He was in his truck in an empty parking lot across from Tim Horton's with his 4-way flashers on. As I got out of the car to help Lo. with her laundry basket, her dad said something indistinguishable about giving me something for taking Lo. home. I was about to say that it was OK because she had already offered me gas money when I saw what he was walking towards me with: two partridges, dead, still with all their feathers, by the feet. Lo. mumbled something (a family trait?) and all I heard was "road?", and a excited affirmative answer from The Crazy Bird Man. I was in such shock over the two birds in his hands that I couldn't immediately refuse his very gracious (?) offer, and in my very best polite, "Don't Anger the Crazy Bird Man" voice told him no thanks. The Crazy Bird Man was a little offended and asked me if it was because I didn't like partridge. Ummm....NO. No, no,no. There was one small minute where I had the forethought to think of M&J and if they would be happy to have some fresh wild fowl, and standing there looking at the befeathered road kill, I decided yet again that it was best to let the offer go. Unfortunately the crazy didn't end there. Lo. introduced me to her dad who immediately said something about my mother or something, and proceeded to shake my hand....but not without an added Crazy Bird Man secret handshake added in for a little extra something. My hand was held in grips of the Partridge Killer while he looked at me expectantly like I already knew The Secret Handshake. I looked to Lo. to see if there was any sign of embarrassment or regret at failing to teach me The Secret Handshake. Nothing. I was finally released, and as quick as I could I ran over to my car (giving me some distance) and gave them my wishes for a Happy Thanksgiving and a safe drive, and got the HELL out of there. Moral of this story: Not even sure what it is, maybe it is that Crazy lurks in the oddest places? Maybe it is take road kill from strangers in order to be polite, maybe there is nothing to take from this but enjoyment from the SHEER CRAZY of the whole situation.