What Just Happened?

It took me about five minutes to toast the potato bread, to cut up the onions and tomatoes and to spread the mayo, brown mustard and pinch of oregano on top of my $11/lb ham and my $8/lb mild cheddar cheese. The ratio of ham to cheese was a steady 3:1. I even sliced it in half and made it pretty on the plate.

Then all of a sudden a random vulture soared from the floor, violently landing in front of me and perching itself on the edge of the table where I was eating. It lifted the bread, licked the mayo off the cheese before throwing the cheese to the floor. Then it grabbed two slices of ham off my sandwich and put the bread back on top.

It stood there staring at me defiantly as it ate my ham slowly and meticulously as if my bewildered mouth-wide-open stare meant "enjoy yourself." When the vulture was done and the ham was gone it had the nerve to pick its sippy cup up off the floor, shake it in front of me and say "Wa-ter, Wa-ter, Wa-ter!" Then grabbed my hand, led me to the fridge, opened it and pointed at the water pitcher before handing me the sippy cup.

So in the words of her apparent mentor: