The Big, Black Cow.

A few weeks ago, me and Cat hiked Mission Peak in Fremont. A few minutes after we started, we came across a gate with a sign cautioning us that we were entering a cattle community. What I didn’t know was they would be right there. Like, right fucking there. In your fucking face. We walked into a shaded area where there was a herd of cows in all their shit smelling, fly swatting glory chilling in the mud to our left. But what scared the shit out of me, was the big black cow sitting outside of the fence in our path.

Visions of a cow attacking me flooded my brain. Except, the cow wasn’t mauling me or anything. It was trying to kiss me with its nasty ass hot grass breath, and smothering feces in my face with its tail. I wasn’t scared that this cow was going to kill me, I was scared it was going to give me ecoli.

On the inside, I immediately began to flip. the fuck. out. On the outside, I simply speed-walked past the cow with a very stiff demeanor, making sure to never make eye contact with the beast , but checking for it in the corner of my eye. I’m pretty sure I didn’t even breathe until I walked past it. Behind me, I could hear Cat laughing at me. When the coast was clear I finally exhaled and turned around towards her, wide-eyed and terrified.

“Damn Abi, now I know exactly how you look when you walk by a cute guy,” she said.  

Head down. Walking fast. No eye-contact. Stiff as fuck and awkward as shit. My God, the bitch was right. How did I ever expect to not get eaten by a cow  men to talk to me when I  couldn’t even look in their direction? 

You know it’s bad when you’re comparing your social skills with men to dodging a big, black cow on a mountain to begin with. It’s not even cute anymore. Time to grab the bull by the horns. 

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