Since I was a child, I was never fixated on my wedding day, or the day I'd get my first period, or lose my virginity, or the day of my death. While I suspected that all of those things were inevitible, I knew something else was- the odds of being crapped on by a bird.
I am oddly giddy to announce that today, Tuesday, November 18th, I noticed a dollop of hunter green bird shit on the shoulder of my black shirt. I was walking to work, a mere two blocks from my door, when I noticed it. Luckily I had tissues in my bag, so I was able to get rid of most of it. Alas, reminants are there, and I can't stop staring at my shoulder.
Mazeltov!
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