So there I am, leaning on the bridge rail, next to the vulture -- neither of us feeling particularly anxious to move. Along come two females with their kids in strollers. One makes a point of remarking to the other that "those things give me the creeps." I charitably assume she means vultures and not photographers. Still, such rudeness can't remain unchallenged. As they're passing I glance over the the vulture and comment (reasonably loudly), "I don't know, Bob. Maybe it's your breath."

This is why you don't want to go to the zoo with me.