squirrels, me, and chili cheese

A Stand Off

In front of me stands a tiny rodent. My feet squelch like I’ve swum out of a lake. It’s my sweat, puddling into deep recesses. The clouds droop over me, the sun phasing out. I see the trees sprawling above, branches twist like candy canes. Birds on them sing like a fourth-grade choir, drowning out any other noise. I feel the grooves of the table in front of me, clutching between the holes. My fries sit out, ushering heat upward from their cardboard prison. The squirrels move in sync. Tails twitch, feet scurry, and their chatter, barely above a whisper. Their footprints pad so softly. like they’re stepping on marshmallows. They’re digging into dirt like graham cracker crust, crumbs flying, progressively scratching more to the layer of deep chocolate earth. We make eye contact. We break eye contact. It happens again. They huddle together, like a coach with his team on the football field. I stand there like the water boy on the sidelines, waiting for a

cue for what happens next. I look down again, timidly, with my hand reaching towards the

yellow-brown covered potatoes. Each fry is lukewarm, slimy, dripping with oil as I pick one up to shove into my mouth. It tastes like eating a larva, a plump, long, larva. I look up as I swallow, face to face with the squirrel’s eyes. I freeze, I’m stuck in this position of me reaching for another fry. The squirrel still doesn’t move. He doesn’t twitch or breathe it seems. It's like he is the middle of a game of freeze-tag. My hands sweat even more than my feet; they’re dripping as if I am melting into a puddle onto this metal seat. I can’t look away. My breathing quickens as I see his eyes glimmer with desire. My hands lurch forward in the direction of my golden prize, the chili cheese fries. He doesn’t step down, he walks closer and reaches out his crust covered paw, grabbing a single fry.

Do You Want to Die?

Do squirrels sit here when no one is looking? I open my package of chili cheese fries. Birds and squirrels peer over at me. I am thinking of what their appetites are and what kind of foods they prefer. As I reach into the bag I look up and see two chattering squirrels gather around my bench. They draw my attention. I begin to watch them as if it's my own nature documentary. I judge their tiny feet and noses; they are disgustingly cute but have the beadiest hate filled eyes and sharpest nails. For a brief moment I reconsider my choice to eat food outside. I will not lose my seat to something so small and dumb; I try to assure myself, Squirrels are more afraid of me than I am of them. The rodents move closer and leap onto my bench. My head floods with thoughts like a bathtub overflowing with soapy water. I can’t think of any reason why a squirrel would join me with my snack. I know that squirrels are not carnivores and should not eat cheese. I begin to contemplate, Does the squirrel know it's bad for him, that he will die if he eats all these fat filled fries? Aren’t squirrels lactose intolerant anyways? I see him grow closer, almost two inches away from me now. My heart pounds. I can’t move. I am stuck in a limbo of fear. This makes me think about escape plans: Can I survive a squirrel attack? Has anyone died to the fists of a squirrel? How fast can a squirrel run? Where did I park my car? As if he read my thoughts, the squirrel moves in closer and grabs a flabby fry. I can’t believe a squirrel would steal from me. Did my whole life lead to this moment of failure? They're not even a real animal. It's a stinky rotten pest. He doesn’t scamper away as he eats the fry. He stares into me.

Munching. Mocking. Miscreant. Never Again.

This experience taught me one lesson. Never eat chili cheese fries in public. It seemed like a harmless idea to eat my snack with nature, however, now it seems like the worst idea. Since then, I have not eaten chili cheese fries in public or outside. I instead eat them the intended way, as a car snack. It's much messier. The weird smell in my car and the crumbs are much more welcomed than the terrifying interaction of fighting off squirrels. As a side effect of this event, I always carry nuts in my bag. It hasn’t been the most useful, except for being a snack for myself. I still carry them just in case another squirrel wants to pick a fight and needs some bribery.