Today I almost, ALMOST got pooped on.
There are two worlds: One in which we blissfully lunch at the park, hatless and carefree, and the other world where we cast nervous glances at large gatherings of fowl and recount our bitter war stories. Phrases like "Oh, that could never happen to me", and "lucky for me I have invisible bird poop repellent with me at all times" are so easily rolled off the tongue, but of course we have no immunity. Only a staunch belief in our invisible bird poop repellent.
As I sat on the park bench enjoying the sun and thinking of prospective names for my hypothetical future offspring, I was an inhabitant of the first world, and happy to be so. Moments of tragedy are never anticipated, and this was no exception. A split second was all it took for the, er, dropping, to splat onto the park bench, soiling the hem of my skirt.
My life flashed before my eyes, I tell you.
That is perhaps an exaggeration. Maybe my life did not in fact flash before my eyes, but I was certainly reminded of how fleeting life can be, and how we must be certain to make the most of the moments we are given and if I may say, the outfits we wear, as we can never really be sure if this will be the last time we are to enjoy wearing that cute little number we have pulled from our wardrobe.
I now stand before you (well, I'm not actually standing, but I think it sounds kind of more powerful than "I sit before you") a changed woman. A woman who has been spared the misery of bird poop on her hair, and I am determined my life shall be better for it. I of course regret that Skirt was not spared, but I pledge that Skirt shall not have been soiled in vain.
As I consider how my life will be changed and improved as a result of this experience, I must be honest that I am really coming up with nothing here. I mean, I'm really not a hat person, plus they mess up my hair and I do love a good blow-dry. I'm also not an advocate for violence directed at pidgeons, however careless they may be about where they choose to relieve themselves, so there seems to be absolutely nothing to be done beyond the usual savor-every-minute stuff.
I think maybe I'll just go home and hug my clothes.
6 comments:
Anrea, I'm pretty sure that Pigeon just wanted a little attention. Afterall, it is National Pigeon Day. I think that it was probably just trying to let you know, in case you didn't have it marked on your calendar with a big red X. Don't be afraid to consult the literature below if you were previously unaware of this ultra-imortant holiday.
Pigeon Day Blog
gothamist article about Pigeon Day
First I forgot your name, then I spelled wrong. I believe that is 2 strikes for me. If it makes it any better. I knew how to spell it. I just tried to type it to fast.
Lucky girl...I have in fact been a victim of a pigeon pooping. Yes it was on my head/hair. While eating a Grey's Papya no less. I decided that was as close to becoming a real New Yorker as I was ever going to get. I'm grateful you were spared the ordeal.
And just for the record, Andrea, I know how to say and spell your name. I guess I just care (shrug).
Glad to hear you survived a brush with death with a positive attitude still intact. :-)
It IS Friday the 13th, and so that calls for some Hitchcockian circumstances. Near miss, indeed.
1. You are obsessed with baby names.
2. I love this about you.
3. You escaped total poopage.
4. I shed tears of joy in your name, in honor of this fortunate near miss.
5. I share your falling fecal matter anxiety. Only here it's seagulls. Not pidgeons.
Post a Comment