Although I don’t think I come off this way, inside I am socially backwards. I prefer to be by myself or with my family or my SMALL list of close friends. When I am forced to converse with someone outside the circle, I like to be prepared with conversation topics that I can pull out if necessary. I have found that most people don’t need me to provide a good segue and will dive right in when I ask certain questions.
One of my favorites when interacting with any type of professional/worker is “What is the craziest thing that has ever happened at your job”. People love answering this and I love their answers. I have heard everything from a real estate agent coming into a showing with their clients to find the homeowners in a romantic situation, to men passing out at the eye doctor’s office and needing smelling salts, because apparently many men can’t handle having their eyes touched. Everyone has a strange and hilarious story about their job. I keep that question in my back pocket at all times.
I have recently added a new question to my arsenal. A question that unites us all:
Can you tell me your bird poop story?
This seems weird at first, but everyone has one. You might be thinking “But I don’t have one.”. Yes you do.
You remembered didn’t you? Your bird poop story.
1982 My story was second grade. Recess. William Shepherd was one of the 2 most ill-behaved boys in class. To be fair, we had a tyrant of a teacher and it brought out the worst in everyone that year. I think William and his cohort Mark used disobedience to cope with the oppressive world of second grade.
When Mrs. T. would leave the room (can teachers even do that anymore?), Mark and William would do touchdown dances while standing on TOP of their desks and moon the rest of the class. Everyone clammed up when Mrs. T. got back. As much as we didn’t want Mark and William’s butts as half time entertainment, we all had each other’s backs when it came to Mrs. T.
In second grade I was IT. By that I mean I had my purple Osh-Kosk jumper with coordinating purple whale print turtle neck and my other outfits only got better. I had long brown pig tails and I was a little bit tom boy (and a little bit rock-n-roll). This is all it took in second grade. I pretty much peaked in second grade when it came to being a man trap, but that’s another story.
Mark and William knew I was a catch and for this reason peppered me with pretend finger pistol kisses from across the classroom daily. They also chased me at recess as the main object of ‘Boys Chase Girls’.
One particular day William was chasing and I, as usual, was avoiding him pretty effortlessly. That day William was on his game and I was not. He shouted that I had bird poop on my jacket. I knew he was lying but still took a quick glance only to find a big white splatter. It was there. A bird had pooped on my puffy navy nylon-ish winter coat. The poop was startlingly near my face and I froze. In that moment William made his move, knocked me down and kissed me on the mouth in triumph. I was PISSED. I punched him but never told the teacher, because as I mentioned, we were a united front in that class and there would be no tattling.
2000-something I asked my husband for his bird poop story once I figured out that this simple topic could create a brotherhood of man. He told me he didn’t have one. I made him keep thinking and he remembered. “Oh yeah! One time I was stopped at a red light and a bird pooped through the sunroof of my 3 series right onto the center console.” Gold.
1960-something I think my favorite so far is my mom’s story. She was pooped on in her high school marching band. In one particular parade a bird pooped on her as she played the clarinet. On her nose. Apparently high school band is serious business and you don’t fall out of line for anything — certainly not a stray bird poop. She bravely played on and wiped the offending substance as best she could off of her face with her hand as a red-faced boy next to her named Bruce giggled uncontrollably at her luck.
Do you have a bird poop story? If so, let me know so I can re-tell it in my upcoming bird poop follow up, Bird Poop 2.0. If you are a blogger I will include your blog link if I select your story. email me @ firstname.lastname@example.org
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