Lucky Number 13

I was pooped on last night.

The incident occurred at approximately 7:13 pm last night. I was running through Central Park, cranking my “Rock” playlist. “Sugar, We’re Going On” was playing. I was sprinting eastward on 72d Street, just past Bethesda (which is flowing again).

I thought it was just a branch or something, falling leaves. I kept running. Then I looked down and saw a splash of white on my black shorts. Then I ran my hand through my hair and wiped away a fist full of gray slime.

Bird poop.

I heard that getting pooped on is good luck.

I’ll keep you posted.

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