One minute I was walking down the sidewalk...

and the next I was (how can I put this politely) sprayed from above by a shower of bird droppings.  [pausing for laughter]  You finished laughing yet.  I know its funny.  My first thoughts oscillated between whether to laugh or cry.  Then I got caught up in the reality of having guano in my hair.  Now after an extra hot, extra long shower when I used up the last of my favorite smelling shampoo that I brought from the US by washing my hair three times I still feel a little nauseous thinking about the whole episode. Further my body is as pink as my robe from being completely scrubbed to death.  Doesn't matter that I only found the droppings on my wrists (in an odd mirror like position... the bird must have had good aim), there was no way I was emerging from that shower with any bird cooties.  Still I have this weird feeling that somehow despite the triple dose of shampoo it is still in my hair.  [uhhhhh]  

In the shower I did have some time to reflect on why this might have happen and how I can go on with my life now that I have been used as a bird's loo.  [smile]  And these are some of the things I came up with.  

• Ironically, just yesterday I skimmed an newspaper article about birds, from THE DAILY MAIL I think.  It was about how some scientists have proven that birds can remember people.  The context was a bit different (pet birds instead of your average pigeon), but I can't help but wonder what I did to this bird to get him/her to react in such a way.  Sure its been a while since I've "fed the birds", but I don't go around kicking pigeons.  I actually used to think they were sweet.  
  
• What I never realized about being showered by bird droppings is that its a whole sensorial experience.  Before the smell or sight hits you, there is the sound.  SPLATT!  I heard the sound, felt something akin to a brief shower of rain, looked around for the source, then reached up to touch my head and horror of horrors my fingers came back with a bit of brown stuff.  [uhhhh] Finally the smell.  So the answer to the age-old question is that "yes you do hear the sound of bird droppings fall before you smell them."
• Now about the shirt I was wearing when the incident occurred.  My blue oxford button-up from Gap is one of my favorite go-to pieces of clothing, when I can't decide what else to wear.  Now its sitting in my sink with stain treatment that I hope will get out all the physical residue of "the event".  Problem is even Shout! with Oxy-clean can't erase the memory. I'm afraid it will forever be ingrained in my mind as "the shirt that I was wearing when...". [smile]  I might have to relegate it to the "to be worn on digs pile", especially if the stains of which I counted about eight (apparently the bird was really angry with me) refuse to come out.  
• Finally a bit of philosophy, it occurs to me that there is nothing better to teach one humility than to be defecated on by a bird. Let me explain... living in a pedestrian culture I have learned that some days you walk and some days you strut.  The sidewalks can either just remain sidewalks or they can be your personal catwalk.  Today, spent mostly behind my computer or in a cafe reading was more of a just walking day (though I did think my hair looked particularly good), but it occurs to me that I could have as easily been showered with bird droppings on a strutting day.  You might say that guano from the sky is the great equalizer.  It can happen to anyone and is a really good reminder that we are all just human.   

One last thing, if you happen to get into a similar situation do not spend time looking up how best to clean it off clothes.  Not because there aren't any sites offering advice, but because you will also be barraged with CDC warnings to avoid bird droppings because they are rife with disease.  Just to say I was already feeling vulnerable enough as it is, I do not want to think about catching bird flu from this experience, too.  [smile] 

Just, Margaret