There is a woman on my patio right now cooing in Spanish about how beautiful and cute Kobe is, while Kobe screams and growls at her from the other side of the glass door. She and the little boy with her cannot see me through the sheet that is doubling as a curtain over the part of the door by the kitchen table, so she probably has no idea I am right inside or that I think she is crazy. If I was a mother with a small child at the zoo, something tells me I would not stand near the glass window of the tiger enclosure if the tiger was clearly very upset by my presence. I also don’t think “cute” or “beautiful” would come to mind when the tiger was desperately trying to maul me through the glass.
And also? There is a woman on my patio, peering in through my window. WHAT THE HELL.