A Seagull’s Guide to Venice Pier

So you want a local’s guide to Venice Beach? Well look no further! I’m a Venice Beach seagull! Won’t you join me on a trip along the pier? I promise you’ll love it… and you know what they say about us California Gulls- we’re unforgettable.

Let’s start at the beginning, shall we? Just before the pier is the parking lot where humans pay to put their cars. Yes, I know what cars are. I’m a seagull, not a moron. I’m still trying to wrap my bird brain around why the humans pay for parking, but I’m a seagull, not a capitalist. In that parking lot there will be a van covered in stickers and surrounded by male humans. They will all look unclean. One of them will be insanely attractive by human standards. Like… work of art sexy. You should admire him, just like the other humans do. He likes the attention. Avoid all the others.

Head out on to the pier. About a third of the way down, you’ll see a group of California Gulls. That’s my family! They might look a little threatening, but that’s just their RBF- Resting Bird Face. If you have snacks, be generous! Share! Gulls like junk food too! I’ve come to understand that this is “illegal”, but don’t let those pesky human rules stop you. I know for a fact that if you don’t offer my cousin Vinny a french fry, he’ll find a way of getting one from you anyways. Just pay the toll. Honestly, it’s the least you can do.

Keep heading out. Feel the breeze in your feathers… or… hair? Does that even feel good for humans? I hope it does, because I love feeling the salty sea air fluff up my feathers. Spread your wings and soar for a few yards- oh wait. You can’t. Fuck. Ok, that’s fine. Walk on your stupid weird feet. I’ll wait.

There’s a pair of sinks on the North side of the pier, toward the end. In one of the sinks, you’ll see a pigeon. That’s Derek. He’s a fucking lunatic. Do not make eye contact with him. I repeat… DO NOT make eye contact with him. My cousin Carrie did once last summer, and I swear her soul left her body.

The end of the pier is a big circle, with plenty of room to land and look out over the Pacific while pondering your own existence. It’s my favorite place to get away, the place on the pier that I most feel alive. If you see me out there, staring into the abyss, leave me alone. I do not want to be pet. This is not a Hollister ad, you are not a Hollister model. You may take a photo, but for the love of bird god, do it from a distance. If you get too close, I will bite you. Don’t be a freak.

Ok, yay! Thanks for joining me! I’m going to go fly up to meet my boyfriend at Santa Monica Pier and fuck each other’s brains out while a shitty mime watches. Bye!

Writer’s note: don’t feed the seagulls. It is illegal, and bad for them. Also, if you’re the impossibly handsome guy from that van, hit me up.