'Twas a mild May day at Epcot. Had just gotten a Frozen Coke and Rum at the Publick House and we began walking toward Japan.
I was wearing a Tommy Bahama black camp shirt and a Brixton flatcap. Then a bird pooped on me.
When I say pooped, it wasn't a dropping. It looked like I had been sprayed with machine gun fire. I tried damping the shirt and cap. Had to throw away the drink. To no avail, couldn't get it all off.
I said what the heck and we continued about our day.
I started to notice people would glance at me as I passed. Got paranoid. So I went into the store in France, figuring I'd make the best of the situation and bought the most touristy t-shirt I could find (the one with the Eiffel Tower) and a ridiculous looking chef's hat.
For the remainder of the day I counted 33 times my DW rolled her eyes at me.
I was wearing a Tommy Bahama black camp shirt and a Brixton flatcap. Then a bird pooped on me.
When I say pooped, it wasn't a dropping. It looked like I had been sprayed with machine gun fire. I tried damping the shirt and cap. Had to throw away the drink. To no avail, couldn't get it all off.
I said what the heck and we continued about our day.
I started to notice people would glance at me as I passed. Got paranoid. So I went into the store in France, figuring I'd make the best of the situation and bought the most touristy t-shirt I could find (the one with the Eiffel Tower) and a ridiculous looking chef's hat.
For the remainder of the day I counted 33 times my DW rolled her eyes at me.