It was my first day of work and I was ready to set sail to the sea of money land that awaited me. I perfumed my body, I primped my hair, I color coordinate my pens and reapplied lip gloss. I exited the subway, determine that this first day was going to be the first of many good days.
I put on my aviators, yeah it was cool me in cool NYC.
When suddenly I was side swiped by a tortuous water hose with enormous pour. It almost took my arm off. I immediately protected my sunglasses, didn't want the poor babies to get messed up. Then, I rapidly twitched my head around in every direction to find the source of this enormous power.
Nothing was around me. What could've happened, I wondered. I gave up, then suddenly realied I forgot to look up.
Pigeons, about a thousand, were up there feasting and caahing and they decided they would just have their bodily fluid make a sweet little home on my arm.
I immediately caused a dramatic scene, making sure everyone in times square knew and felt the turmoil I was feeling in that moment. Right when I cry to the skies, why why why why me... I get an answer.
The pigeon didn't pick me because I was a piece of shit that can't have anything nice, even on her first day of work that she worked so hard to have everything perfect for... The pigeon picked me because I'm lucky.
That's the beauty of New York, you can be proud here of anything. Here you feel lucky , even if it is just a pigeon and it is just using the bathroom on your arm, it picked you out of the millions of other arms. And apparently, if your a true New Yorker, you appreciate this story, because it means extreme good luck is in your near future.
Suddenly, I didn't want to wipe off my arm. Suddenly, I wanted New York to see that I got the part of pigeon toilet, not the millions of other people. It's not broadway but it's luck, and I wanted people to see that.
So, I was telling my table of ladies today about my pigeon accident, and they just carried on and on like I was the luckiest person alive. And, I, of course carried on like I know! I know! Then one of the ladies told me there's this thing around birds, you are lucky if you find birds gravitating to you.
Ok, so I'm still on my pigeon poop high, when I walk to my next table and begin to take their order. I'm feeling really good at myself, I'm the only person working the entire resturuarant. I haven't made any mistakes yet. It is a little busy, but I'm cool and collected.
Suddenly, I see something crawl by my foot, while I'm taking some germans drink order. I then feel it, I quickly look down, IT'S A PIGEON!
I didn't want my guest to see my little friend, so I gently kicked him with my foot, ballerina like, as to not hurt the bird but hold the impression to the table that I was relaxing with them.
The bird didn't like this gesture, for he starts cawing and then flies to the second level of the resturant. Thankfully, the germans were looking down. But, the Canadians totally saw it. They start screaming pigeon pigeon! I'm like oh I didn't see it, where did you see a pigeon?
Well, have you ever tried to chase a pigeon? It's damn near impossible. First there is the size difference, I can't weave in and out of tables and chairs. Then there's the whole flying thing. Plus,they bob their head which confuses you, cause you don't know which way they are going to turn.
So, if you are ever in this bind, what you do is play dumb. Act like you are just standing there with no thought at all of attacking. Then you let it walk towards you and you walk towards it, slowly in the direction you want the bird to leave. It's basically like how women should go about men. However, what doesn't work is cawing and pretending you are his brother.
So, whatever, I get the damn bird out. The canadians applaud me and the world is at peace again.
Two pigeons, in two days,doesn't happen to everyone. The canadians told me they believed something good was going to happen to me.
Pigeons use to fly towards my head and I would run. But, now I know they are just coming to wish me luck. So I let them speak and I let myself listen.
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