El Coyote

In what seems to be a definitive sign that my life has hit all new levels of the bizarre, I have a new problem: Coyotes. Literally. I'm not kidding.

In my quest to be the consummate professional, I agreed to stay on at this god-awful job for a few more weeks to help them transition (oddly enough, the transition period is longer then my actually employment, but I digress). The office is located at the base of Griffith Park, the largest urban park in the United States. Its a few thousand acres, so I'm not surprised that there is wildlife around. I am, however, surprised that said wildlife wants to be my new best friend.

Big Marv, the warehouse manager who also loves me a little more then I am comfortable with, called me outside this morning to show me a coyote that was standing on the hill above our office. A little while later, it was napping next to my car. Big Marv scared it away and then decided to go home and do his laundry (if he has nothing to do, he just leaves, which is interesting because if I did that, Crazy Boss man would track me down and kill me, but again, I digress).

At noon, I leave to take my normal lunch break and I am half way to my car when I see him (the coyote, not Big Marv) just staring me down. As I get closer to my car, it starts coming near me. I rushed into my car and drove away. Who are these assholes that say that coyotes are likely more scared of me then I am of them? That thing was salivating when it looked at me and something that is supposedly scared of me wouldn't be walking towards me licking its lips. When I got back from lunch an hour later, it was still there! It started walking toward my car again. I honked the horn and it ran away, but I stayed in my car for a few minutes on the phone with Caleb trying to figure out what exactly to do. All of Caleb's suggestions included reckless destruction of property and nonexistent weapons, leaving my only option to make a run for it, again.

So now I am here, in my office, but I really think its out there waiting for me. Plotting. Aren't those things supposed to be smart? And I made the mistake of looking up some facts; coyotes can run up to 40 mph. I sometimes don't think my car is going to make 40 mph anymore. My ulterior motive for posting this right now is so that if people stop hearing from me for a few days, call animal control or something because that means I am still in here and that smart little fucker found its way in and is holding me hostage or eating me or something.