Animal encounters
I think I mentioned that I've been spending a little time in the backyard on the hammock lately. Late Sunday afternoon, I was reclining comfortably, catching up on my New Yorker reading. I think I was in the middle of an article about racial politics in the Netherlands when I looked up and noticed a bird in a high branch directly above me (the tree I was under was very tall--I'm bad at estimating--1.5 times as tall as my two-story house, I'd say). I thought to myself, "If this bird decides to relieve itself, I'll be cast in the role of birdie toilet." But what was the likelihood of that? It was a million to one, I figured.
I was wrong. About five minutes after I noticed the bird and contemplated getting shat on, I got shat on. Just a tiny spec--maybe the size of a dime--on the left shoulder of my t-shirt. Still, I was pissed, mostly because it meant I had to get up off the hammock, go inside, and change my shirt. I wasn't going to loaf around with bird crap on my shoulder (as tempting as that prospect was).
Later that evening, I was invited to Carina's house for some Palm Sunday coffee and dessert. I related my in-the-line-of-fire story to her and her family, and she gasped and said, "That's good luck! It's really rare to get crapped on by a bird!" This superstition was vaguely familiar, but it hadn't occurred to me until then. So since Sunday I've been walking around waiting for something good to happen.
Unfortunately, I had a second animal encounter late last night that maybe have negated my bird crap bonanza. I was walking to my car from Corinne's apartment in downtown (well, the grad ghetto) New Haven, when a black cat "crossed my path." Or I crossed it's path. Actually, we were travelling in opposite directions and just kind of passed each other. I tried to remember if I'd ever seen a stray black cat before--I don't think I ever have. As we went by each other, the cat gave me a look as if to say, "What, you're not sprinting to the other side of the street? Don't you know I'm supposed to be bad luck?" I suppose I might have gone out of my way to avoid that cat if I didn't think that at the very least the bird defecation incident would cancel out any potential misfortune.
Maybe this afternoon I'll stand under that tree for a while in hopes of regaining some of that bird crap karma.
I was wrong. About five minutes after I noticed the bird and contemplated getting shat on, I got shat on. Just a tiny spec--maybe the size of a dime--on the left shoulder of my t-shirt. Still, I was pissed, mostly because it meant I had to get up off the hammock, go inside, and change my shirt. I wasn't going to loaf around with bird crap on my shoulder (as tempting as that prospect was).
Later that evening, I was invited to Carina's house for some Palm Sunday coffee and dessert. I related my in-the-line-of-fire story to her and her family, and she gasped and said, "That's good luck! It's really rare to get crapped on by a bird!" This superstition was vaguely familiar, but it hadn't occurred to me until then. So since Sunday I've been walking around waiting for something good to happen.
Unfortunately, I had a second animal encounter late last night that maybe have negated my bird crap bonanza. I was walking to my car from Corinne's apartment in downtown (well, the grad ghetto) New Haven, when a black cat "crossed my path." Or I crossed it's path. Actually, we were travelling in opposite directions and just kind of passed each other. I tried to remember if I'd ever seen a stray black cat before--I don't think I ever have. As we went by each other, the cat gave me a look as if to say, "What, you're not sprinting to the other side of the street? Don't you know I'm supposed to be bad luck?" I suppose I might have gone out of my way to avoid that cat if I didn't think that at the very least the bird defecation incident would cancel out any potential misfortune.
Maybe this afternoon I'll stand under that tree for a while in hopes of regaining some of that bird crap karma.
posted by temporarily unemployed at 08:39
1 Comments:
I have been shat on four (count em, four) times, and on each occasion I've been told by someone that it's good luck...however, I can't help feeling like that's just at attempt to make the "shitee" feel better about the fact that something just pooped on them. PS sorry for my part in animal mishaps!
~C
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