Pigeon Pee - 06.27.11

Today I finally went to the beach. When I woke this morning I literally had no other objective than to go to the beach in Tel Aviv, indulge in reading my trashy murder mystery novel, and start my summer tan. Over the past year, as I have layered clothes to brave the San Francisco evening chill, or knitted scarves that I know will get far too much use, I have often closed my eyes and dreamed of the Tel Aviv beach. Imagine soft sandy shores filled with people laughing, eating, playing, and swimming. Loud Israeli music and classic American songs from the 90’s pour out of every beachy storefront. Envision the gazebos providing shelter and shade, and a wide promenade filled with bicycles, tourists, and restaurants offering cold Gold Star (Israeli beer) and fresh fruit smoothies. I have savored these visions in so many cold and frustrating times and places. Today was my day to enjoy it all.

I put on my new bathing suit, layered on the sunscreen, grabbed my Kindle, hat, and sunglasses, and set out to the beach with a smile. Ten minutes later I found myself comfortably sprawled under one of my mentally-pictured gazebos, perfectly half in the shade and half in the sun, with my Kindle clicked on and open to the tenth (yes, the tenth!) book in the Women’s Murder Mystery Club series. Ahhhh…ideal, fantastic, soul-fulfilling beach day….I am your beloved and you are mine!

I wish I could finish the story there, with me sunning on the beach and you smiling at the thought of such bliss, but we both know that’s not possible. Less than a page into my drama-driven San Francisco based novel, a sneaky, dirty, little pigeon that was suspiciously eyeing me from my blessed gazebo swooped down and pooped all over me!! In utter disgust I pulled off my hat and my shirt, and began frantically wiping pigeon poop from…well, everything. In ruined misery I decided the universe had declared my beach day privileges revoked, and hastily packed up my belongings, threw my pigeon-poop-hair into a rather un-stylish ponytail, and stormed down the street away from the beach. As I was approaching a street crossing a couple of blocks from the beach, a man started running towards me frantically screaming, in English, “wait, WAIT!!” Assuming I was about to be hit by one of the crazy speeding Israeli bus drivers, I stepped back from the curb and turned my attention towards the man. As he approached me, out of breath, he looked up and said in a strong Israeli accent, “You are so beautiful. Can I take your picture, please?”

Seriously?!

Sometimes I just don’t even know what to say during the situations I encounter in Israel; however, this was not one of those times. I looked him in the eye, probably with poop still dripping down from my hair, and yelled, “No, no, NO!!”

I then continued my dramatic storming down the street, despite the death-provoking heat, until I reached my room. I showered, and only found content when I got comfortable on the couch, directly in front of the A/C, and read my murderous romance chick book until I fell fast asleep for my new ritual afternoon nap.

In re-telling this story to Israeli friends, I learned that being pooped on by a pigeon is supposed to be good luck, but unfortunately, being harassed by weird Israeli men is just irritating.

Here’s to visions that don’t turn out quite as we expected, but that turn out funny anyway! I’m still waiting on that good luck to come my way…I like it when the universe owes me one :)