A Bird In the Hand

Back in the 1980's, I placed a classified ad in the paper, hoping to find a boyfriend. I arranged to meet one respondent at a park. I rode my bike about 10 miles to the park. When I was locking my bike to a tree near the prearranged meeting area, I heard a man call my name. I turned to look, and, assuming it was my respondent, and I put out my hand to wave hello. Just then a baby bird fell from a nest up in the tree and landed perfectly in my hand. The person who called my name was actually calling someone else in the park. My respondent then came up to me and we met for the first time. I still had the bird in my hand. Realizing it was dead, I put it down by the tree as we made awkward small talk. I could tell by the way my respondent looked at me that I was not his type. After that I used to joke to myself, a bird in the hand is worth nothing if it's dead!