Forever ago, Ryan and I were just friends and I was dating/living with a guy who had this enormous boat of a car, something like a Chrysler New Yorker. (which was awesome back then, because you could easily seat 8 or 9 people in that thing - it was like a school bus) One day, Ryan and I were out and I was driving the car and we stopped to get lunch at this place that had a teeny tiny parking lot. So when we were trying to leave, I had to zig-zag that big ol' boat about 100 times to get it out of the space, during which time I ran over a pigeon.
In my mind, the pigeon was there, screaming for it's life while this gigantic battleship of a car came barreling at it. Ryan says that the bird was already dead and I just ran over it's carcass.
Well, I didn't just run over it. I backed over it (and "forthed" over it) 100 times. The first few times, I thought it was just trash in the parking lot but when I had angled the car enough to be able to see it, I was terrified. I was so distraught that I couldn't stop flapping my hands and sqwaking about how I'd just run over a penguin. Ryan was laughing so hard at me calling it a penguin that he couldn't catch his breath enough to correct me. So I kept going -- what other choice did I have? Especially since Ryan said that he wouldn't back the car out now -- and eventually got the car out of the spot and the bird? Well, let's just say it had seen better days.
After that, everyone teased me about running over a penguin. I had one of those keychains with the ceramic beads on it and someone (I think it was Ryan) even bought me a penguin bead for it.
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