It was gross.
I'm a block away from work with a latte in one hand and my Fossil handbag hanging off of my shoulder. I walk with this ridiculous bounce which is why I usually spill coffee over my hand at least twice before I make it to the office, but I was doing really good today. I hadn't tripped, I hadn't lost my cell phone, my latte was intact and then BAM...green pigeon poop all over my arm and shoulder. It nearly knocked me over. What the heck had this pigeon been eating?
I don't even lose a beat. My face is wrinkled in disgust but I just keep on walking hoping that I can make it inside the building before anyone sees that I have been anointed with green pigeon poop. Discreetly, I reach in my pocket for a tissue (thank God for my collection of napkins that I always carry in my pockets), and I start wiping. And now I have green pigeon poop encrusted in my nail. How gross is that? I hold my finger erect like it may just fall off at any moment. Nails are gross. They catch everything. I really must cut them.
Now I'm in the building waiting for the elevators and of course, our usually empty lobby is full of people. What's with the parade? A perky blonde decides to strike up a conversation, but I don't want to talk. I have green pigeon poop on my arm and shoulder AND encrusted in my nail and the last thing I want is to make friends with anyone when I feel so dirty--curse that wretched pigeon and his bowel movement. He had the whole sidewalk to himself, why target my neurotic self?
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