Lunch Break at Battery Park
I walk across the park towards the small square tables where I often enjoy lunch and a view of the lake. Nothing out of the ordinary. After situating myself and eating a few french fries, I notice that I have company. A squirrel has decided to come check out the delicious smell of french fries, apparently. No big deal, I think. I stomp my foot somewhat close to him in the hopes of sending him bounding off somewhere else so I can enjoy my meal in peace. That is where the problems began. This squirrel had absolutely no fear of me. He knew I wasn't actually going to hurt him. He was so cute, and there were so many Burlington-park-dwellers around I would have certainly been thrown in some ASPCA jail cell had I actually stomped on him. So he stayed right in front of me. Staring at me. I clapped my hands. He moved. Closer. I yell 'Git! Git!" and wave my hands in front of him. He runs to the other side of the table. At this point, I stand up with the intention of taking a few steps towards him and shooing him away for good. I kid you not, he ran around the table like some sort of living cartoon while I literally ran around in circles trying to chase him off. At this point there are at least three people blatantly watching us, including an old man who gave me the advice to "take your shoe off and hit him with that." I took off my shoe and started brandishing it threateningly. Me, a full-grown man, taking up arms against a roughly half pound animal. Still, when I looked into this demon's eyes I saw no fear. Determination, hunger, and mirth, as he challenged me face to face. I reach down to swing the shoe at his smug face and this little hell-spawn leaps onto the chair and then the table. Now we are eye to eye and I am flailing frantically. I realize that it has come to this. I either make a reach and truly connect, shoe sole to squirrel face, or I need to leave. I throw a stick at him. He mistakes it for a french fry and chases it down. Displeased he marches right back up to my table and disappears underneath it. Terrified that he is going to try to climb up my pants, I stomp my foot at him again. I look back and he's gone. Or is he. No, he is just hiding behind the support beam of the chair across from me. Perfectly obscured by a piece of metal merely 2 and half inches square. He peeks his head out from behind the support and launches himself back onto the chair across from me. At this point, I give up. I give him a french fry and leave the park. I'm fairly certain that I was just on some sort of hidden camera squirrel show.
This just happened to me a few minutes ago. I had to record it.