One time, a pigeon hit me in the face.
It was not awesome.
It was an odd sequence of events. I had just gotten off the el. A pigeon was flying, looking for a place to land. He decided that the top of an open door looked like a nice spot, but just as he was going in for the landing, someone closed it. So the pigeon turned on a dime (you know, if dimes could hover in mid-air to be turned on by an in-flight bird) and went back to where it was originally.
Except the pigeon, in turning, had lost some altitude. Just enough altitude that it was level with my head.
It happened in slow motion. The pigeon came at me. I stopped in confusion. The pigeon started flapping furiously, probably thinking, “ABORT ABORT ABORT” in its little pigeon language. I shrieked because there was a pigeon in my godamn face what the hell. The pigeon’s wing smacked me in the face. I start flailing my arms in front of my face wildly, screaming all the while because holy shit, pigeon in my face.
The pigeon, seemingly indifferent to the entire ordeal, landed on the platform and walked away, presumably in search of food.
This all happened in the span of the el sitting there, waiting for passengers. The doors shut, and it pulled away. I stood on the platform, frozen in horror. Someone across the track called over to me to see if I was okay. And all I could say was, “A pigeon just hit me in the face.”
The guy laughed.
He recovered quickly, and told me, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just… that’s really funny. I’m sorry. You’re okay?”
I nodded, repeating in my head, “A pigeon just hit me in the face.” And then I started laughing. Really hard.
Because a pigeon hit me in the face.
And the guy across the tracks was right. It was really funny. It’s not something you think will ever happen to you, because you don’t think it will ever happen. But apparently it can. So fair warning to all of you that it can happen.
Because pigeons gotta keep that pimp wing strong.