Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Pigeon Poop (a true story)

As I step out of my car I hear a splat. I look down. I'm covered head to toe in pigeon poop. I have no towels or napkins in the car. The only thing I can reasonably clean myself with are some scraps of paper. I use them to wipe the poop off my arms and my head. 

I find a public bathroom. There are no paper towels, only a hand dryer. I'm wearing a white blouse which turns see-through when I try to wash the poop off. The toilet paper proves useless for wiping, and crumbles into pieces when I wet it. I also realize pigeon poop isn't white. It's gray and brown. And boy does it make a mess.

I walk out of the store and into a sudden downpour. I don't have an umbrella, and I'm wearing a pair of good shoes. My white top becomes completely transparent. At least the rain has washed the poop off my car, so I can touch the door handle again.

I come home and discover I've gotten my period early, and the cat threw up on the carpet while I was out. I start the laundry, clean the puke, go to bed, and hide under the covers indefinitely.

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