A pigeon pooped on me. Not just pooped...splattered...in my hair, on my jacket, my pants and my bag. I was rushing to work from the subway, on my phone, and *BAM* I was hit. I stood there in shock for what seemed like a minute or two trying to figure out what had just happened. A very nice bartender from the Hearland Brewery saw the entire thing and rushed to my aide, pulling me inside and directing me to the restroom with a cloth to wash off. This is probably the most discusting thing that's happened to me here, aside from the guy on the subway jerkin' off in front on me while I was asleep.
Everyone I talked to today tells me this is good luck. I sure as hell hope so, because you can't just get shat upon without some kind of positive reprocusion. Not thirty seconds before this happened, I was on the phone with a theatre company calling me in for an audition. Now that better be my pigeon poop good fortune. Here's the irony, the call-back is for a bird character in Seussical, the musical. HAHAHAHA!
I love New York.
Gertrude McFuzz (one of my dream roles, this pigeon shit thing better work)
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