Lunching on patios
Living in California makes you underestimate the power of nature. Oh, I’m not talking about weather so much as the foul types of creatures that you might encounter when, let’s say, your co-worker decides “It’s a nice day. Why don’t we sit outside?” So, I got the number for my food, found a covered table, and figured that at most, I’d have to worry about a slight wind.
Well, it was somewhat chilly, prompting my co-worker to ask if she could sit in the sun, where I was (I’m cold-blooded. This is how I survive.). So she pulled her chair right next to me, and naturally, I had to recoil in horror and jump aside to where she previously was. At some point, I don’t know how, my pinky touched something slightly wet. That’s odd, I thought, I don’t recall spilling my water. Hey, and how come this water is cloudy, and why is there something stuck to my pinky? Jesus fucking Christ, did I really just stick my finger in wet bird poo? Yes. Yes I did. Right before I was going to eat, I found myself smeared in bird droppings - that I had to flick off. Why me? Had I not moved over, this would have never happened. Needless to say we spent the rest of our time dodging those wing-ed motherfuckers. When you sit under a covered patio, don’t choose the table where filthy birds perch.
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i love poo stories :shock: