On 2010-03-27 08:53, woofmutt wrote:
Here's a picture I took in Chinatown yesterday afternoon. It came at a price, a story I'll tell you below the photo. But it's fairly disgusting so don't read while eating breakfast or lunch or if you're easily grossed out.
Late in the afternoon on Friday, March 26th I was in Chinatown. The sun was out and there was some great light on the old buildings and I was wandering around taking useless photos. I took the above shot of the tree and poles and wires and stepped a few feet west to see the other side of the building. As I was looking up at the building a pigeon shit in my mouth.
No, my mouth was not wide open, it was just open enough that as the pigeon shit made an angular splash across my face and shoulder a dollop of it landed right inside the corner of my mouth.
As I began spitting the slightly salty and acidic but otherwise flavorless pigeon shit (now you know) out of my mouth I wasn’t so much disgusted by the immediate situation as I was concerned about all the diseases one might be exposed to via pigeon shit. Yes, it was disgusting, but the idea that I could become “Patient X” for the next wave of deadly bird flu was really really annoying.
I grabbed a bandana I usually have in my satchel and wiped the affected part of my mouth. I was spitting and cussing when a semi-present possibly drunk woman who had been the one human witness to the pigeon’s triumph commented on the birds shitting on people.
"One just shit in my mouth," I told her.
"Oh," she replied, "Oh yeah, the birds they...I'll remember you."
Unimpressed with the impression I had made I headed around the corner to Bush Gardens where I was meeting friends for Happy Hour. I walked in and right to the bar and said to the bartender "I'm going to be having a drink, but first I need a glass of water because a pigeon just shit in my mouth." He didn't even hesitate and gave me a glass of water.
I headed to the bathroom and rinsed. I noticed the soap dispenser, added a small shot to the glass, swirled, and rinsed. I did that again, and again, and again, and again.
My phone rang, it was Sparky. He and Cookie had just arrived at Bush Gardens and he was asking where I was.
I am in the Bush Gardens bathroom because the second worst thing that can happen to someone in the city just happened to me."
"A bum shit on you," Sparky replied without hesitating.
"I said the second worst thing."
"A bum puked on you."
"OK, the fourth worse thing," I said, skipping what I knew would be number three.
"A bird shit on you," he said again without hesitation.
"Not on me," I replied, "A pigeon shit in my mouth."
“What, were you staring up at the sky with your mouth wide open?” he asked.
Sparky had called from the bar and I told him to buy me vodka so I could rinse with that. I figured having a pigeon shit in your mouth was probably on a list of situations that allowed you to demand a friend buy you a drink.
I walked back to the bar and handed the bartender the glass.
"It's been rinsed with lots of soap and water,” I told him so he wouldn't think I had brought back a glass covered in spit and pigeon shit.
"You know that's good luck," the bartender said to me.
"A pigeon shitting in your mouth is good luck?" I asked incredulously.
"Yes, good luck. People get shit on by birds, it's good luck."
"I think you're just making that up, but thanks."
I asked Sparky if he'd got me a vodka. Sparky said the booze would have to be at least 50% alcohol in order to be effective.
"You should get a shot of 151," he said.
I asked the bartender if they had 151 rum. He said they did and I ordered a shot.
“I got this,” the bartender said refusing my money. I think he knew the incredible luck I had brought into the bar meant it would be a profitable evening. I tipped him a couple bucks, headed back to the bathroom, and on the way took a good big sip of the rum and rinsed.
“I think that was a mistake,“ I thought having forgotten the feel of 151 in the mouth. My tongue, cheeks, and roof of my mouth felt as if they were giving up their outer layer of skin.
I walked into the bathroom and spit the 151 in the sink. I added some water to the remainder and rinsed again and followed that up with a few more rinses. There was one other guy in the bathroom and I apologized for all the rinsing and spitting into the sink.
“A pigeon shit in my mouth,” I explained.
“You should by a lottery ticket,” he replied.
I think I am starting to see why some people think Woof and I are the same person!
