The seagulls on Long Beach Island are overstepping their boundaries.
Saturday afternoon, I was sitting on the beach about to enjoy the second half of a turkey sandwich. There was another beach chair less than two feet to my right. Suddenly, I felt a whoosh and what I thought was someone’s towel or T-shirt brush past my arm, and I was holding about one bite’s worth of the bread from one side of the sandwich, while the Godzilla of seagulls was sharing the rest of my lunch with what suddenly became an entire posse of rats with wings.
Most of the people in my beach house were at a bar a few blocks down the beach enjoying a liquid lunch, so they laughed at my story, but I’m not quite sure they believed just how brazen this little critter was.
But Sunday, in the very same spot, a smaller seagull performed an encore, snatching most of a sandwich right out of someone else’s hand. This little sucker didn’t even bother traveling very far down the beach to enjoy the fruits of its labor, landing only a few feet away and giving all of us a look that seemed to say, “Yeah, I took your sandwich … AND?”
Why don’t you rats with wings stick to your natural prey and leave my damn lunch alone?