A bird shat on me.
I was standing at the train platform when the horrible white and black concoction splattered down my shoulder and onto the top of my coffee cup. Looking down at the mess in disbelief I sighed inwardly. Fuck sake. Then resignedly found a handkerchief in my pocket and started wiping down the mess.
Have you ever tried cleaning bird shit from your jacket with a handkerchief? All that I succeeded in doing was smear most of it into an amorphous faded grey stripe down my shoulder and arm. I looked up. A girl was stifling a laugh at my misfortune.
Boot. I thought contemptuously. I glared around me at anyone else who might think my plight amusing but most of my fellow commuters were looking studiously away. Perhaps they feared that to acknowledge this tragedy might bring a similar fate down on them. I looked up at the tree above me. Several birds peered down cawing in amusement. Aye, very good
I put my shit smeared coffee in a nearby bin and lit a cigarette. Not normally something I would do in the sacred environs of the station platform but I was in a bad mood. I had barely taken two drags when an officious looking fellow in a fluorescent jacket approached me.
'Hey! No smoking on the platform.'
'I'm outside.' I replied dismissively.
'You could get fined for smoking here,' he pointed at a little sign nearby. 'Put. It. Out.'
I let my face go entirely blank and stared at him. He looked a little discomfited, he was only a little fellow after all. Then I sighed and disinterestedly flicked my barely smoked cigarette onto the tracks. For a moment he looked ready to challenge me. Then shook his head and moved on.
Fuckers. What a shit start to the day I thought. I watched the smoke curl up from the discarded butt. I will have to chuck this smoking pish.
The train journey was mercifully short and in no time at all I found myself offloaded into the centre of town. I got out of the station and lit another cigarette. I fancied that I could see shapes twisting and weaving in the smoke from the tip. One more day then the weekend.
I headed to the coffee shop next to my work. On my way I occasionally glanced at my shit smeared shoulder and winced.
Coffee, that would fix everything.
I waited in the queue. When I say queue there was only one girl in front of me. I waited behind her whilst the lumbering sloth serving her fiddled with some small plates before producing one for the cake she had ordered. He then huffed slowly over to the coffee machine and started clanking about; seeming to achieve nothing.
I sighed softly and pulled out my phone. Minutes passed whilst the King of the Sloths fannied about steaming some milk with all the speed of a man bleeding out from a paper cut.
More minutes passed. I glared at Sloth King as he pussyfooted even more at the till before realising he had forgotten the chocolate for the girl's cappuccino and began his slow and merry dance all over again.
I puffed audibly before mumbling 'Fuck sake,' leaving the café empty handed.
I stood outside my place of work with another cigarette in hand but no coffee. The events in the shop replaying in my head somewhat differently. I smiled at my nicotine fuelled imaginings.
I see myself go in. The service man takes a ridiculously long time over a simple order. After waiting ten minutes I scream in effervescent rage before punching the man in the neck and proceeding to smash up the joint.
sigh
I wistfully finished my cigarette and headed into work.
Readers, can you guess? Is this really fiction? :0)
Getting shit on sucks!
Absolutely!!!
I don't want to read the other comments so as not to spoil if my answer is correct. With such a storied life, it's hard to distinguish what's real or fiction with you. A lot of fantastical elements routinely happen in your life, and a lot of realistic elements are peppered throughout your fiction stories. Jeez..
The fiction tag is really throwing me off, but I really feel it's a red herring. As someone who've had a bird shit on him (hair for me), I know how infuriating it could be. But, it shat on your coffee?! The nerve of that fowl beast! The events that led up to the end are surreal as well, but considering you're the narrator hmm... I say this happened for real Gah! I'm putting my "detective" title on the line here.
Your detective title hasn't let you down!! Yes indeed. Yesterday was a challenging day to say the least! I considered the day of with a splendid evening in the pub and am now paying the price for my folly!!
Ha! Just like your fiction story a week ago! Perhaps that's not a work of fiction as well hmmm
Ah, last weeks was fiction based on real events. But historical! :0)
Right, right! I looked for it after I commented and completely spaced on it being semi-autobiographical haha It turns out it was somewhat prophetic as well!
Lol, prophetic and semi auto biographical. Like a mix of wildness!! Perhaps I should have guessed the future lotto numbers back then!!! ;0)
Bad days can make good stories. Yet it is not how I picturef you to be. :-)
I know, it makes me sound like a thoroughly disagreeable character!! I'm not though!
Promise!! :0)
Trust ya. Fun to imagine how that would be though. Almost like a detective story noir. Rain, gloomy, pidgeon taking a dump on your old warn out raincoat. While you slide over the pavement, thanks to the shait from what must have been a Danish dog...
Haha, I had that vibe going on in my head. :0)
😉
@meesterboom I think its for real?
and love it that you're human..
and proudly wearing the Steemfest Pin!
Cheers Chico!
Raaar!!! You saw the steemfest pin!!! Yeah. I wear it all the time and sadly it was for real!! A bird shat on me this morning!!!! Rage!
@meesterboom knowing you as half an OC I could imagine the rage
I'd be pissed off, too
I shot the doves with my water gun last summer when they're perched on top of the pine tree branches above the strawberry green house - more so if they shat on me - shat birds haha unfortunately I always miss.. freaking tall tree but they've left it alone so that kills the fun with the water gun :D
Hahaha!! I am loving the shat!! Yeah. This morning i was furious!! The world was fine then i got shat on!!
Well written, it's not fiction! Sorry about your bad day!
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=glX9FzQ2Yo4
@kus-knee (The Old Dog)
You are absolutely correct! I am sitting with a beer now and it all seems good!
Waiting for a better internrt connection for the video!!
I always wondered if shat was the correct term for "shitting" in the past tense. I hear it's good luck. Give it some time. I've been shit on twice.
I SAY IT IS NON-FICTION
Shat is widely used in Scotland. One of our finest skills is swearing in many ways!!!
I think you may be onto something with non fiction!!
5 steem for that man!!!
:0)
Scotland? I have to get my friend Greg on steemit. He is a Scottish expat that was raised in Auckland New Zealand, but now lives in Texas. He too has introduced me to the wonders of Scottish profanity.
Good lord, yes you have to get him on!!
Excellent creative non fiction - my favourite kind. But don't get mad - get even! The only thing that draws me into more fanciful fiction is that I can then Taser up the sloth and bazooka the birds and live free!
Haha, my kind of thinking