A bird pooped on me today.
But it wasn't just any bird...it was a big, fat bacteria-infested city pigeon.
In an attempt to describe my hatred for surprise spills/messes made on or around me, I wanted to reference back to a post I wrote earlier about a pregnant woman throwing up on me on a plane a few years ago. I could have sworn such a post existed, but I can't find it anywhere. It's a good/disgusting/overly-dramatic story, so I hope I can find it. Otherwise, I'll just have to retell it one of these days.
So after spending a wonderful derby-filled, mini-golftastic weekend visiting my boyfriend in Milwaukee and a lovely day with him and my parents at the Chicago Botanic Gardens, I hopped on the Metra and headed to the city.
Once I got downtown, I opted to take the L (or is it El? I should know this...) back to my apartment. Unfortunately, that involved walking down a street that doubles as a pigeon hotspot. They are always hanging out in the gutters, curbs, sidewalks, overhangs, steps, etc taking up space and pooping up a storm. I practically tip-toed through it because my biggest fear is having those damn birds get spooked and fly up in my face. (shudder)
So I made it safely to the covered stairs that took me to the train. But as I approached the stairs, I noticed an extremely fat pigeon sitting backward on the ledge over the entrance of the stairs. His dirty, feathery little bum stuck out, just waiting for someone to walk by.
I knew he would poop on me, but I heard the train coming and decided to risk it. I held my breath (not sure why) and ran to the stairs.
Immediately, I felt something hot and wet plop onto my right cheek. Sick.
I swore loudly and as I kept walking up the stairs, I wiped it off my face. It smelled AWFUL. When I got on the train, I finally assessed the damage. It had landed on my face, on my jacket, on my springy scarf and all over my new purse. Ew, ew, ew.
I thought I wiped it all off, but when I got home, I realized that I had a huge brown splotch streaked across my cheek. GROSS. I gagged a little bit.
So I heard getting pooped on is a sign of good luck. Any truth to that? I've never had it happen before, but it's a nice thought to have. It kind of takes away the grossness of the actual poop. And I can definitely say that when I came home, I was able to run downstairs and throw 3 loads of laundry in at one time, which NEVER happens. It was pretty amazing because laundry usually causes me hours of stress. Was it good luck? Sure, I'll call it that.
I also just found a long lost memory card from when I first got my digital camera. It has hilarious pictures from my first week in Ireland that I forgot I had. Aww, such good memories.
Ok, off to unpack and put away laundry. Hope you all had wonderful bird poop-free weekends!