This is going to sound like a rather random post, but just work with me on this one. It’s particularly odd in that I don’t believe in fate, horoscopes – I’m a typical Scorpio like that – or omens, but I’ve now been involved in three different episodes involving seagulls and they’ve all centred on the concept of luck.
The first one was when, while living in Brighton, I went to the shops to buy some shorts for five-a-side. I was just outside said shop – you know the one, it had a ‘closing down’ sale every week back then – when a large shitehawk lived up to its name by parking its breakfast on me from a great height. A passing ‘funny’ person commented that I should be happy as it’s good luck. Really? Within the following hour I was dumped by text and wrongly accused of shoplifting by a man who refused to apologise when he realised his mistake.
A year or so later, I was carefully crossing a road between static traffic in one lane and a steady flow in the other. Seeing a double decker bus coming, I stopped in the lane that wasn’t going anywhere to wait for it to pass. Except I trod in something. Something slippery. I slid forward, right in front of the mobile asylum and, as a certain lyric by The Smiths passed through my mind, I somehow managed to lurch backwards in a movement not dissimilar to how they dodge bullets in The Matrix. The bus missed me by centimetres. A little shaken, I made doubly sure nothing else was coming and crossed to the other side of the road. Looking back, I discovered that I had trodden on what used to be a noisy sea bird. Grim. Still, no harm was done and, although it was the thing that almost caused severe misfortune, I’m counting this as lucky.
Cut to a week or two ago and I was suited and booted for a job interview in Brighton. As I left our house to go to the station I noticed something grey and white protruding from the triffids in our front garden. I had a couple of minutes to spare, so carefully pushed a couple of branches out the way to discover the last resting place of, you’ve guessed it, another seagull. Taking into account this rather sinister discovery and the fact that this bird seems to have a special place in the hearts of Brightonians thanks to being all over the branding of Brighton & Hove Albion, this could have been a rather bad omen. Thankfully not – I got the job and am starting tomorrow.
So there you go – conclusive proof that seagulls are good luck. Well, unless you’re Tippi Hedren and as long as they’re dead.