Gothberries Taste The Sweetest

(I go to the aquarium with my family when I am a teenager during my goth phase. While I do enjoy the animals, I sport a black studded trench coat and steel-toed boots. We go to my least favorite exhibit — the aviary. I stand in the shade while watching my family and everyone trying to lure the birds to their fingers and hands with nectar. The birds just lean over and lick the nectar while staying away from contact. I am listening to the keeper a few feet away from me talking about the birds. She looks at me.) 

Keeper: “Would you like to try feeding the birds? See if they come to you?”

Me: *shrugs* “I guess so.”

(The birds haven’t been on anyone, anyway, so I don’t think I’ll have better luck nor do I want it; I don’t particularly like birds. But the lady just seems so nice I have to try for her. She gives me the nectar and points out a bird to try to feed. Immediately, it lands on me. Then another. Then another! And they keep coming!)

Keeper: “Oh, they like you!”

(On the other side of the aviary…) 

Mom: “[My Name], come on; we’re ready to go! Your sisters want to see the penguins!”

Me: *screaming in my trench coat and boots while I run away from a flock of candy-colored birds*