The dull, white office complex in which I work is built around a small, man-made lake, which is home to about three dozen ducks. My window looks out onto the lake, and I can faintly hear what goes on out there. Beyond the lake, across the street, there is an athletic field where the local high school conducts baseball practice in the afternoons. The sound of a baseball making solid contact with an aluminum bat is audible through the window, too, and it’s a sound that signals to me that it’s almost time to go home. It sounds like…victory.

There is a woman in an adjoining building who, like clockwork, takes cigarette breaks everyday at 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. She strolls out to the lake with a bag of cheap sandwich bread and announces her arrival to the ducks with a loud, baritone, “Hello, friends!” that I can hear through the window. The ducks have learned that this is the voice of The Bread Lady (in other words, the voice of lunch), and they respond to her announcement by flocking to her in droves. She tears off small pieces of white bread and makes sure every duck gets a piece. Sometimes she holds a whole slice in her hand, bends down and lets the ducks take bites directly from it.

The Bread Lady is tall and gaunt, and she wears beet-red hair that even my untrained eye knows comes directly from a box. She has the raspy, wheezy, oxygen-deprived voice of a woman whose lungs have cycled more smoke than the stack of an old locomotive. Each day when she takes her cigarette break, she brings a different co-worker along for the show. Some smoke with her, some do not. Some help her feed the ducks, some do not. Whoever her escort is on a given day, The Bread Lady introduces him or her to her webbed-toed friends and points out subtle differences in each duck. She knows them, she says. And she claims they know her.

This morning, The Bread Lady arrived at 10 a.m. with a bag of bread and a freshly sparked cigarette. There was a woman with her who seemed to be spooked by the ducks, as if perhaps they might go all piranha on her ass, come a’waddlin’ up and snap one of her toes off with their razor-sharp beaks. To soothe the plainly evident fear of her friend by showing her that the ducks are actually quite docile and harmless, The Bread Lady pulled a whole slice from her bag of bread, knelt down and waited for a duck to come and get it.

Seconds later, a brave little mallard waddled up to The Bread Lady, surveyed the bread for a moment and then snapped-out to take a bite. Trouble was, The Bread Lady had been holding her lit cigarette between her index and middle finger on the same hand with which she was extending the bread with her thumb and ring finger.

When the duck bit the bread, it grabbed her Marlboro, too.

The Bread Lady put her hands on her head and cried, “No! No! Don’t eat that, little duckie! You’ll get sick!” Her friend looked on in silent, unrelenting horror – eyes wide, brow furrowed, mouth agape. And the duck? Well, it was chewing extremely rapidly, bobbing its neck and generally looking like a dog trying to eat a big glob of scalding-hot peanut butter.

Upstairs, behind the window, I was losing my shit.

After about 10 seconds of unabashed hilarity, the duck dropped the still-smoldering cigarette at its own flippers and retreated to the lake. The Bread Lady’s shoulders dropped in a visible show of relief. And her friend – the woman who was already scared of ducks BEFORE her friend nearly committed involuntary duckslaughter – just stood there, now with her hand over her mouth, her eyes still wide and full of terror.

Comments

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. I say, "I don' need no stinkin' picture." Your words conjured up a perfect, hilarious image. A great story, Danny, made perfect by the telling.

*applause*

They may or may not have known her before, but The Bread Lady can be damn sure those ducks will remember her from here on out.

Danny, you definitely painted a picture there. Especially with the beet-red hair straight out of a box comment. Ha! I hope you do figure out a way to make a living writing. There are too many people out there that have not had the experience of snorting a beverage out of the nose while reading one of your posts. Good luck.

I wish to God I had been there to see that.

The funniest thing I read today, bar none.

I have been in a piss poor mood all day but that story has brightened it considerably.

Thanks a million!

It'll be interesting to see if she quits smoking, after what happened today. Maybe she'll feel protective of the ducks and not want to take the chance of that happening again.

Laughing my butt off- nuff said... the mental imagery alone was worth staying at work the extra couple of minutes to read that... but now I AM OFF

I read this site ALL THE TIME and I just have to comment. Your last paragraph, about the woman watching in horror.. cause all of my co-workers to watch me in horror and I busted a gut laughing! I love this site! You keep me entertained on a daily basis.

I agree with everyone - I wanted to tell you that you painted a perfect picture for us! I could completely see this whole scene playing out in my mind...Totally hilarious.

I wish the duck would've started smoking the cigarette. And then passed it to another duck. And I hope the next time that lady goes out there, one of them steals the rest of the pack right out of her purse and then asks her for a light.

I started reading this and my first thought was, "Bread really isn't good for ducks, you should tell her to feed them lettuce instead," but then I finished the post, and after I stopped laughing, came to the conclusion that bread is MUCH better for them than cigarettes.

Bekah is right...bread has way too many carbs.

I suggest inserting a little gator into the lake. That way...when she comes to feed her ducks she can feed the gator too...and in a few years...there will be no ducks and no lady who smokes with red hair straight from a box.

Gatorguy9986

I'm relieved!

I read in horror, thinking the duck was going to burn a hole in his throat and die as you lost your shit through the window and croaky red commenced a conniption.

I'm glad it all ended well and hope you don't feel compelled to look again tomorrow.

This has been approved by The Macek Collective.

That chicks scarred for life, no doubt. I can empathize because I, too, am afraid of most birds (really irrational fear, I know). How lucky you are to have reqular entertainment through your window, twice a day no less!

It would be so worth the price of admission to hire the Dick Cheney look alike to walk up behind her with a 12Ga while she's feeding and just tap her on the shoulder and say "Do you mind?"

Do you think the ducks will be like those circus monkeys who become addicted to cigarettes. Maybe the Bread Lady should bring a carton of Marlboros next time.

Needed a laugh this morning and you came through. I've been enjoying your site for a while without commenting, but I just had to say thanks today!

I can totally see this happening. Great story..I'm trying to figure out who is dumber, the duck or the bottled red head.

I probably would have died from laughter watching that unfold. Thanks for the laugh! You paint a great picture of the situation.

awesome story.

i hate ducks. got attacked as a child. hate.all.birds. will eat stuffed anything.

but i do think fois gras is mean ...

please tell me that was fiction....

All I get to look at is a cinder block wall where I work. I guess working from one's basement has its disadvantages from time to time

I related this story to my ducks.

Now they're demanding bread and cigarettes.

Great.

I quit smoking five days ago.
I envy that duck.

"involuntary Duckslaughter".

Awesome.

Stop looking out the window and get back to work. Or you could be working on your novel, or you could be working on your book of short stories, or you could be working on the 'meme' I am tagging you with.

I've only been here a couple of times, but this was too good NOT to comment! That's freaking hilarious! LMAO!

I hope you are having a great passover....

Gatorguy9986

Sounds like that duck is craving fiber. Perhaps The Bread Lady should start bringing whole wheat.

if i had to star in those stupid aflac commercials, i'd want to kill myself with a burning cigarette stub also.