We were up in Galway yesterday, helping Elder Daughter buy a gown for her grad dance (I was helping by doing the driving and getting the hell out of the way).
I spent a nice hour sitting on the ground by the banks of the Corrib with my iPod on. The weather was nice and the banks were crowded with lots of young people. Afterwards, I wandered the streets enjoying the summer throngs - people sitting out in the fine weather eating or drinking coffee (or pints of stout).
Eventually, I decided to contact the other members of the gown-buying party. I stepped out of the throng and stood in front of a shop window. I was just in the process of sending Elder Daughter a text when I felt something warm, soft and squishy hit my left hand. I looked down and saw a glob of slimy mucus oozing down the back of my hand. I looked up and saw a pigeon turning his backside to me. Yes folks, I'd gotten a little "billet doux" from the bastard. It was a pretty good shot, I have to say. If I'd been him I'd've been rather proud of my accuracy.
I spent the next five minutes pushing through the mob, trying to find a newsagents where I could buy a bottle of water to wash my poor handie. I had to be careful not to proffer my money using my left hand - God know what the shop assistant would have thought if she'd seen the pigeon poo...
Of course, we all had a good laugh about it afterwards, but some laughed more than others.
Regards,
djp
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