Home > fuck > Pigeonholed


It’s no secret that tourism has always been about money. Most people think of it in terms of how much they’ll be paying for the various elements of their vacations, but scores of individuals are thinking of that capital from the other side and plotting how best to get their hands on as much of it as possible. Every aspect is examined from within the industry for additional revenue streams, and there are many fringe representatives for the business. Take pickpockets’ best “customers” always being tourists unfamiliar with their surroundings, for example.

Rodney was no different. After running through the typical lines of work available to him and finding them emotionally unsatisfying, he was approached by a New York City T-shirt vendor with an unusual offer. He was to work with a group at the Statue of Liberty by hanging around outside it and inspiring visitors to purchase the vendor’s wares. Rodney assumed this was just another hustle involving him pestering people relentlessly like so many of his previous jobs, but the man assured him this was not the case. If Rodney would just give it a try for one day, things would make much more sense, claimed the vendor.

This was enough to persuade Rodney, or at least provoke his curiosity, and he arrived on Liberty Island early Thursday morning. The daybreak air was crisp and the tourists hadn’t begun arriving yet, so he meandered about looking for the vendor, before stumbling upon the group who appeared to have been hired as the team he’d be working alongside. Everyone was as confused about what they had agreed to as he was. The group chatted idly with speculation as the sun crept into the sky and the first boat of the day came ashore. Their employer debarked and came rushing over to greet them, exuberant that so many had followed through with their promises to attend.

Motioning to follow his lead, they all followed the vendor to a spot near the entrance of the statue, where he began setting up his stand. Unpacking his T-shirts, he also removed containers of water that he encouraged them to drink. Everyone did, though the taste indicated something was definitely off about the water. Rodney was growing impatient and considering leaving to salvage what remained of the day, when the vendor finally uncorked his bold plan. Everyone was to go to the edge of the pedestal the statue stands upon, concentrate themselves just above the doorway where the tourists would be entering, lean their rears over the edge, and wait.

Being a pigeon can be demeaning. People think of you as one-dimensional and a nuisance, and the T-shirt man was obviously in that camp as well. The group glanced around amongst themselves, brows furrowed, sharing the same collective feeling and silently gauging one another’s thoughts as best they could. Rodney’s stomach began to revolt as the purpose of the tainted water now came into focus. Realizing he would be suffering diarrhea all day regardless, he half-heartedly shrugged his wings and alighted to the pedestal. His coworkers quickly did the same.

The group’s intestines were in collective revolt by the time the first visitors were entering the statue’s base, and they executed their job remarkably. The vendor had sold fifteen shirts as replacements for soiled ones after the first hour. Each bird had been promised one percent of the revenue from the shirts sold, so even with their gastronomic agony, they could see this was lucrative work compared to what they could normally get. In fact, no one could cite a better-paying job without resorting to talking about homing pigeons, which nobody was even sure still existed. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad after all, thought Rodney, as he glided down to the vendor for another sip of water.

Categories: fuck
  1. No comments yet.
  1. No trackbacks yet.