Are you afraid of the crows?

I don't know if you've noticed, but crows live among us. They eat hot dog leftovers at Costco right in front of us — but they don't pay for their membership. They walk down the street just ahead of you, as if they pay taxes. They even seem to laugh at you early in the morning, when you walk outside in your almost transparent pajamas just to take out the trash — after separating glass, cardboard, and waste, of course.

They don't hide, don't run, don't even feel afraid of being out there, much more elegant than our weekend outfit, with their tiny necks straight up, looking down on us from above, almost feeling compassion for our $130 CAD executive memberships, our student debts, or mortgages, for the most fortunate. They're there, and by there I mean everywhere, and for sure, they're not afraid of us, and to be honest and just speaking for myself, it's quite the opposite.

I can't remember if it was yesterday, or the day before yesterday, or even the day before the day before yesterday, but that image is still on my mind. I closed the door and locked it up as if I were still in my Mexico City apartment, walked down the alley for a couple blocks, and just turning around the corner of Oak Park, we met each other, face to face, while he was sitting on a wooden bench.

At my second week here, I'm probably still lacking confidence, just a little bit, but I can promise you this: He maintained an ice-cold stare straight into my iris, almost with disdain. The way he judged me... Oh boy, I'm sure he knew I was about to walk straight to Tim Horton's, as I had all week, blaming me for choosing birthday cake timbits instead of old-fashioned glazed, as if I were still that skinny kid from Ecatepec (also hometown of Penta, Zero Miedo).

And speaking about Penta, I'm sorry man, but I'm honestly scared of them. I mean, they even have a movie named in their honor, and it's no secret: Brandon Lee died while filming, probably as a curse that we couldn't comprehend. But more than thirty years later, it's still one of the most popular costumes at Halloween, probably as part of a not so well-known ritual.

Or just remember that scene from the Alfred Hitchcock movie, with a flock of crows reuniting one by one at a playground structure with that children's song sounding on loop. They didn't even attack Melanie, just quietly stalked her, as if nothing was happening, but you know, I know, everybody knows.

So, think about it for your next human-bird encounter, and if you're dumb enough to make eye contact, just run away, without permission, without direction, but much more important, without saying it out loud: You know that phrase, right? You shall not take the name of crows in vain.