At my work, like most places, I get two 15 minute breaks. Since I usually I roll into work about 11 minutes late every morning, I skip the first break and hope that my boss notices (or doesn't notice, whichever works out better for me), but later in the day, I do try to take a walk. Getting out of the office at least once is a must or else I go nuts and start thinking about my co-workers in less than friendly terms. Today I was ready to go at 3:30 but apparently there was some brouhaha from yesterday about coverage and nobody being here (I was scheduled off so I missed the whole thing)... so instead of standing around waiting for my co-workers to figure out what they should do, I went by myself.
A couple of months ago, we received a message from one of the executives warning those of us who walk (East LA! I work in East LA!) that a mountain lion had been spotted up in this area, which is literally just above the 710 freeway. There is a helicopter pad and a dog run where the sheriffs' department people bring their K-9 companions for lunch time ball breaks. There's a shooting range. It's definitely not desolate up there. In the communication we were warned not to go by ourselves, and given tips on what to do should we see a mountain lion (don't run, don't crouch down, wave your arms and try to appear larger, fight back, etc.).
In spite of the mountain lion scare, and because by going alone, I could call my friend Michael earlier in the day rather than waiting to do it on my way home, I was fine with the idea that I had just ditched my co-workers. I was walking up the hill, had just passed the fire station on my right, and I was talking to Michael about some upcoming comedy gigs he has and mocking his pantry and what he would serve a surprise guest ("What are you offering him? Cigarettes and beef jerky?") when coming toward me, down the hill, was the cutest little bunny you've ever seen. He was brown, with a big fluffy white tail. He was running, fast. I interrupted Michael and said (and by "said" you should realize that I mean "screeched") "Bunny!" Michael kept talking. Apparently at this point my voice was only audible to dogs. "Bunny!" I said. "I saw a bunny!" By this time the bunny had bounded toward me, crossed the street, and plunged himself into a big bush of flowers. I laughed - how could I not? Bunnies make me happy! - and Michael laughed, and commanded me to write about it, which I have just done.
Now, it's not that interesting, what I have just written, but it is done. I am nothing if not obedient.
When I came back and told my co-workers, who were just then gearing up to go for their own walk, one of them asked how big Mr. Bunny was. "He was pretty small," I said. "Darn," he said. "I'm starting to get hungry." Tomorrow I'm going to recommend that this particular co-worker of mine start taking solo walks. What do mountain lions eat, I wonder...
(Yes, I am aware that mountain lions probably eat bunnies. Shut up now, please.)