Saturday, I stopped by the Gas Station Chicken Store for my 44 oz Diet Coke. I turned off T-Hoe, gathered my correct change and winning scratchers, and put my hand on the door handle. A movement caught my eye. What in the NOT-HEAVEN? Was someone walking by? Was that a butterfly? Nope and nope.
I turned my head to see a blob of bird poop the diameter of a baseball oozing down T-Hoe's window. Ready to run into the crack where the window goes down into the door. Just above the door lock button.
Had I been a little speedier picking up my stack of change, that door would have been opened, and the POOP would have landed on my SHOULDER!
Whew! Close call. So here's the thing. I figured I was either VERY LUCKY to have missed that poop bomb...or VERY UNLUCKY because a bird pooped on T-Hoe's window.
A couple hours later, I realized that I was VERY LUCKY. The $10 ticket I bought at the GSCS was a $50 winner!
Poop on!
5 comments:
Poop happens. And then you're hot poop because of your win.
Perhaps you need to begin a business. You will be the surrogate lottery player. People will send in money to you, and you will buy the lottery tickets, sprinkle them with your magic mojo, and send them back to your customers...
Sioux,
I'm not sure people would want their tickets sprinkled with my magic mojo! I put down the window to mail my SPRINT bill, and that bird poop SCRAPED OFF the black poopy part, which fell, in powder form, down into the door slot! The white stuff is still there, though.
I asked Farmer H yesterday if he had something to wipe off that bird poop with, and he said NO! Can you imagine that? He has one of everything on earth! I think he's holding out on me. Saving the bird-poop remover for his special friends that he has no shortage of help for...
Woo-Hoo! A win! It's supposed to be lucky if a bird poops on your shoulder or on your head, I don't remember which, but I haven't had a bird poop on me in decades. Which is fine with me.
Re your comment to Sioux: did you not wipe it off right away with a handful of tissue or even as soon as you got home?
River,
My last pooping (in which a bird bombed me) was in 1980. I still remember. Hit me on my white shorts with the blue Adidas stripes, in college.
By the time I drove home, the bird poop on T-Hoe's window was in that in-between stage. Too gummy to wipe off, but not yet dried to a powder. So no, I did not want to mess with it. Kept my window up. That's Farmer H's job. I took care of years of kid-poop!
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