I am writing this entry on behalf of my friend.  Today’s douchebag is the bird that flew over the bench on the southeast corner of Bryant Park in NYC at about 2:30 PM last Thursday. Why?  Said bird took a shit on my friend’s head.

My friend decided to take a much needed break from work, grab some lunch from one of her favorite food trucks, sit on a bench and people watch while she eats.  People watching in NYC is one of my favorite pastimes.  It’s the only place you can see a fierce tranny, a conservative granny, and a baby with its nanny walk by in a matter of 5-7 seconds. So my friend was sitting there enjoying the sights and her pad Thai, when suddenly she felt something wet drop onto her head.  She clearly knew it wasn’t raining, and she wasn’t close to any buildings. What I mean by that is, in the warm weather, the air conditioners on the high rises often leak water which can drip on you’re head as you walking down the street. Crazy as it sounds, as a New Yorker, you sometimes learn to embrace it, especially in the really balmy months.  Even dirty water feels good when it’s balls hot and you still have 18 more blocks to walk. Anyway, my friend pulled a mirror out of her purse, and came face to face with the reality, a bird had crapped on her.

Now, you might think her anger and disgust came from the fact that she had bird feces in her hair. Well, you would be wrong. She was pissed because she had just gotten a blow out.  Here’s the deal, my friend has not taken a blow drier to her head in years.  She says she’s about as skilled at blowing out her own hair as Kim Kardashian is at, well, anything. She has curly hair, so she says, I’ve known her for over 10 years and have never seen so much as a wave.  It’s always pin straight, and looks great by the way.  She managed to find a salon on the upper east side that gives cheap, but good blowouts. So twice a week, she goes and gets it done. Yes, it sounds like a convenience, but she works full time and has a son, so fitting it in is often a challenge. She’ll either get up extra early to do it, or try to sneak it in on a lunch break. I used to work at the same ad agency she works at so I can assure you, much like finding the perfect pair of underwear, a lunch break is very rare.  So the fact that the biweekly blowout she had just gotten the day before had been crapped all over, had her really pissed off.  She sent me a selfie of the affected area of her head, and tragically it was right by her scalp. This bitch of a bird didn’t have the decency to unload on the end of her hair so it could’ve been a partial wash scenario. Nope, this was a full redo blowout and that really blows.  I tried to make her feel better by telling her what my mom used to say, when a bird shit on her car it was good luck.  She immediately sent me another selfie of the bird crap dripping down her head with the message, no, I’m just shit outta luck.

She washed out what she could, and the next morning told her boss she had a doctors appt in case he was looking for her, but really went to get a morning blowout.  Sure she lied, but whoever says they’ve never lied to their boss is full of as much shit as the left side of my friend’s head. So on behalf of my friend, bird…you took a poorly placed poop, that makes you the douchebag of the day.

Written by Hope Grider