Someone has got some explaining to do.
When I moved into my present apartment in Northeast Minneapolis, I thought I had moved somewhere real urban and tight, you know? Some place I could show my friends and not have to hide. Or like throw a dirty cover over the syrup stains on my couch.
But that’s not what I’ve got: not with these goddamned turkeys running around. I’ve seen four or five turkeys in the last like, what, as many days? I mean, come on! Who’s taking responsibility for this! My friends have seen them, too. I’m not the only one. Turkeys on street corners. Turkeys just bending their dumb question-mark necks and pecking away at specks of broken glass from broken beer bottles. Turkeys stepping lightly over crosswalks all dignified and whatnot with their, what do you call them, plumes!
On my plate, or on my car’s front grill, turkey. Not driving down the home prices.
Yesterday I saw this monstrous bird and it frightened a little child. Here’s what I overheard:
Mom: No, he won’t eat you.
Child: He won’t?
Child: Well then, let’s eat him!
Ok, so I know this example has problems. This kid is dumb. He subscribes to the belief that if something can’t eat you, then you, naturally, should eat it. There’s a time and a place for that kind of thinking, kid, but not Northeast Minneapolis.
But that’s what’s happening up here. Turkeys just running the joint. I thought I was getting in on the ground floor of some urban renaissance, you know. Local artist studios, buskers outside homespun cafes nestled up to grungy brick bars and ethnic grocery stores. But, now it’s just a goddamned turkey-infested jungle.
If I wanted livestock, I’d move to Cannon Falls, you know what I’m saying?
All I can say is that the next time I’m picking a hip neighborhood in Minneapolis to live in for approximately three months while I “get my bearings straight,” there’s no way I’m choosing Northeast. If I’ve said it once, I’ve probably said it more, I can handle crime, high-unemployment rates, and the occasional window-peeper, but I’m not doing this turkey shit. No way. No how.
Get with the 21st century, Northeast Minneapolis. Get rid of these freaking turkeys. Don’t tell me how. Just make certain it happens before next Saturday’s all-vegan BBQ.