Goosed

At work there is a pond just outside the building. It's all very cleverly landscaped and pretty, designed to give the workers the impression that they are working in a beautiful environment. And, to be fair, the place could be a lot worse.

Anyway. Around this pond there are all sorts of plants, long grass, rocks, lots of places to tempt birds to nest. And they have.

I was walking down the stairs after going to the gym the other night, and encountered a bloke peering out of the stairwell window towards the pond. I said hello, as you do, and asked him what he was looking at.

"I'm looking for the geese," he said, looking at me knowingly.

"The geese?"

"Yeah! They are really dangerous!" He was a man with a tale to tell.

Turns out that earlier that day, a woman had gone for a pleasant lunchtime stroll around the pond, strolled too close to a nest and been "Attacked!" by an outraged parent goose.

I laughed for ages, until he continued "Yeah, she was quite badly hurt, it knocked her over."

Then I had to stop laughing and make the sympathetic listener face. But I was laughing on the inside.