The birds have got it out for me

I have no idea what I did to offend the birds in this city, but whatever I did I'm sorry! In the past month I have been the victim of two malicious bird poop attacks. The first one came the day of the NY Philharmonic Concert at Central Park. It was also a Taco Bell Tuesday -- a work tradition that needs no explanation. I was standing innocently enough under a tree on 14th St when I felt the unmistakable plop of bird shit in my hair. A couple of weeks later I was on my way to meet up with a date at Central Park south when a bird pooped on my new white skirt. Lame!

You have to understand I have bad memories of bird poop. In high school I worked on ax exotic bird farm (don't ask) and shoveled more shit then I care to remember. In my sophomore year of college I was walking to American Civ with my then-boyfriend when a flock of birds maliciously dive-bomb pooped on us right outside of Braden Hall (witnesses could only describe the scene as 'ugly').

Let the record show I have never done anything mean to birds. Well, I maybe chased Canadian Geese at my Grandma's house. When I was 5. But since then I've been -- dare I say -- a bird supporter. I would vote for bird rights if a petition came up. I make way for the ducklings. So what gives?

I suppose it wasn't all bad -- the first poop attack on 14th St led me to get my hair shampooed and styled at the upscale salon my work shares a floor with, and I have never gotten so many compliments on my hair. And the second time was an excuse to get a new summer dress, which my date loved. But seriously birds, enough with the shit. Cut the crap. And leave me alone!