When I was 17 I worked in a bookstore's shipping department, and because my first Bumpside had frequent problems, I often drove my father's 1976 Chevy Suburban (~8,200lb GVW; 4x2; 454; TH700-R4; Posi' rear; ugly brown paint) to work.
I grew up on a large, rural lot in Bonny Doon (in the Santa Cruz Mountains in California). So we'd often park our vehicles in the dirt, mud, or brush surrounding the house.
One morning I headed out to the Suburban to drive it to work, and it wouldn't start. I just heard a clicking sound from the starter area! I'd learned from experience that whatever was wrong with it was often cured by smacking the starter case with a 2x4 or other blunt object. So I found something in the yard (there was always junk everywhere), climbed under there and gave it some solid clanks. I climbed back in and it started right up! I took the blunt instrument with me in case I had use for it again (after getting off work, for instance).
Then I got to work and walked in the back door, near the shipping room. My boss turned around and started squinting at my head. He took off his reading glasses, walked up to me and said, "What's in your HAIR?!"
I raked at my hair and a bunch of black pellets rained down and scattered on the cement floor. I could see the florescent lights softly reflecting off the surface of them, like they had a semi-gloss, luster finish. My hair was LOADED with them. What were these things?
DEER DROPPINGS
Robroy
