Actually it was a good day for awhile there until I left the office and during some huge brain fart I forgot my laptop at work. Wierd and terribly inconvenient. Thank goodness for my treo with all my email on it. Then I finally got home and decided to be proactive and make a run to the drycleaner then go to the gym.
I park at the dry cleaner, get out of the car and in front of me was an odd sight. A homeless fellow, sitting on a milk crate talking to someone named Little Freddy on walkie talkie. Now granted, I'm not sure Little Freddy was talking back, but nonetheless it was an odd sight. I beebop into the dry cleaners, drop off my stuff and on the way back to the car this black fellow comes out of the liquor store next door. He's grabbing his crotch and yapping on his cell phone. Something about having lots of 'ho's and he could get this guy any number of 'ho's. As I fumbled to unlock the door, wondering what kind of neighborhood I live next to, I noticed the homeless guy still talking on his walkie talkie and sipping an olde english 800 brewski out of a straw. Just then it hit me, literally......I felt and heard wet splats all over. What the...!!!! For a nanosecond I thought the homeless guy had thrown his beer at me but another nanosecond later I realized it had come from above.
You see, I had parked under a billboard. Pigeons sit on billboards. I stood there, incredulous for a moment looking all around me and feeling what I now know is birdshit on my head and shoulders. The homeless guy is looking at me and I think, there's some sort of irony here but I'm missing it. Just then, SPLAT, SPLAT, SPLAT, another bombardment from above. In reality, the spacing between bombardments was really only a matter of a couple seconds. I think I escaped unscathed from that blast and jumped in the car. I sat there for a second and all of a sudden I felt like crying as the birdshit is starting to run down my sunglasses.