Thursday, June 11, 2009

A Tale of Woe

So, readers. This morning I had planned to write a post about my part-time job as a Sherpa, that is, ferrying all of my belongings to and from work each day. Every morning I pack up my laptop, gym clothes, various need for errands, snacks, wallet, makeup bag etc etc etc and schlepp it on my 45 minute commute. Its not so much the commute I hate but the heavy 60lb monkey on my back in the form of all my daily accoutrement.

This Sherpa post will have to wait however, dear readers, as this morning I suffered one of my greatest fears. What would that be, you say? Nuclear war? A giant earthquake in the Bay Area? No no no. My worst fear comes in the form of getting a GIANT dump on me from the heavens above in the form of being a victim of a bird crap.

I really do not like birds. Look, I have love for all creatures great and small, and I know birds are loveable to some. I just don't like them fluttering above me or squawking or divebombing or pecking or whatever it is that birds do on a daily basis to give me the creeps. My friends love to tell the story of a trip where we were in Paris for a whirlwind trip, and somehow a family of pigeons had made their way down into the tunnel of the Metro. As we walked down this tunnel, they took flight, about waist high soaring towards our heads. While my friends laughed I screamed and flattened myself against a wall. I mean, it was a confined tunnel! They were coming right for us!! On a trip to Italy, probably one of the best weeks of my life, I still shudder remembering stepping onto St. Mark's square and seeing a see of birds amongst the tourists, taking flight in huge swarms as most people squealed in delight. (Why are all my bad bird experiences international? Those are my only trips out of the country, too...hmm)

This morning I was walking to work, on the last block leading to my office. I was on the phone with my mom, chatting about the day ahead. I had paused to slow down before getting to my destination, feeling optimistic about the morning ahead and trying to have a sunny outlook despite the cloudy skies. All of a sudden, I heard a PHWAP, PHWAP PHWAP pappapap. Wha?? And I looked down and ALL over my trench coat sleeve, laptop bag and as I quickly realized--MY HAIR--was a thick, yellow, brown, crazy large deposit from up above. Everywhere everywhereeverywhere.

I would like to say I remained calm, but I yelled, hung up on my mom, and ran to my office where I shouted to Ms Mer that I had had a huge commute tragedy. She is a saint and helped me with some paper towels and commiseration, I then went to my gym to shower (paper towels and water didn't work!) and dropped my coat at the cleaners.

I am really hoping this is good luck, sign from above, or omen of great fortune. (Can anyone vouch for this idea?) (If so, please forward good fortune to the Red Sox, thank you.)

Needless to say, the day took a different turn. Sherpa post will be later. Until then, my friends, I am thankful for my coat, a nearby shower, and the knowledge that I knew all along that THOSE BIRDS ARE ALL OUT TO GET ME.

Love, LizPoms

4 comments:

  1. Awww, LizPoms. I feel your pain. That would totally elicit some sort of uncomfortable, earthshaking noise from me. :p

    But take heart, look what I found: Bird droppings = good luck! :)

    And yeah, ever since seeing the movie "Birds" by Alfred Hitchcock...a large amount of birds just gives me shivers up my spine and creep me out too. Brrr....

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  2. Thanks Drewablank! Both for the sympathy and the link to good luck! Wooohoo!

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  3. Ok that is so my worst fear!! The pigeons (and seagulls!!) in SF are the worst. Sorry about what happened to you, hope tomorrow is a better day :)

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  4. You poor thing - that is awful! But yes, I have heard that having a bird poop on you is good luck and I remember in Under the Tuscan Sun, that's how she got the house - when the bird pooped on her, the owner knew it was a sign.

    So glad you had Ms Mer to help!! What a friend.

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