You know it’s happened to you. Maybe it was your tía or your abuelita or your friend or your cousin or even just some stranger that happens to point out that, nice, a bird pooped on your. Or on your car. Or on something that you didn’t want bird poop on. “Es buena suerte,” they said. “It’s good luck.”
Really?! Has this ever happened to you?
Don’t get me wrong, I am all for a good chuckle at my own expense, but I’ve been pooped on at least twice in my life and each time the response I get is that I should go buy a lottery ticket, or I should consider myself lucky. Perhaps I’m too acculturated to get in on the superstition, or maybe I take myself too seriously, but this one is kind of a stretch for me.
I remember the first time it happened, I was in Monterrey, México and I was walking along with a friend. He, of course, laughed hilariously in my face as I struggled to find a napkin to wipe the bird poo out of my hair. If you can believe it, after he finished laughing, he also told me it was good luck. “No te creas guey, es buena suerte, en serio.” I tried to be cool.
I’d totally forgotten about this superstition until my friend Toni reminded me recently, after I shared that my car had been pooed on just hours after I washed it. Go buy a lottery ticket, she advised me. I tried to clean the bird poo off with a napkin shortly after I discovered the offense. Unfortunately, the Texas sun had already seen to it that the poo would be baked on until I washed the car again (whenever that will be).
Perhaps I should have simply taken her advice.
Follow Sara Inés Calderón on Twitter @SaraChicaD
[Photo by mill56]