The second time I go duck hunting is a date. I have vaguely told Anna about the urban hunt, but she doesn’t know she’ll be canoeing around Lake Washington to bag game. This is just supposed to be a reconnaissance mission, but I bring my pistol and some bread—you never know. After some pleasant paddling, we are in a quiet romantic nook among the lily pads and cattails and low-hanging trees. With a couple of mallards.
“Can you keep a lookout?” I ask. She gives a half-hearted “yes?” and I throw some crumbs into the water. They swim right up to the side of the boat. She gamely plays along while I shoot and, predictably, miss. Back on shore, Anna asks the question that has been on everyone’s lips: “Why?” I go through all the reasons—ethics versus aesthetics, disasters, the “u-kill” chicken shack. She listens quietly, obviously unconvinced.
— Pretty funny read on urban hunting
