Yesterday evening, I was on a run in my neighborhood, blasting Kanye in my headphones and probably singing it out loud, who knows really, when I realized that people were staring at me kind of weird from the sidewalks. Handsome men with dogs smiled and then recoiled, women with babies furrowed their brows and pushed their kids to the inside of the sidewalk, cats ran away at breakneck speeds. This is no strange surprise to me – I get REALLY red when I run and probably look like I’m dying so awkward stares are nothing new – but it was a surprise when an older man flagged me down and gestured for me to take off my headphones.

“Yes?” I asked while jogging in place because I am very athletic and love running and am definitely not only doing it to lose 10 pounds by my Vegas trip next month.

“You have bird poop on your head. All over your head.”

I gasped, almost touched it with my hand, and then turned on my heel and ran home. Indeed, I had a sand dollar sized dollop of bird sh*t splattered across the crown of my head like, oh I don’t know, a SH*T CROWN. It was the most embarrassed I’ve felt in a very long time. I yelled at myself in the shower and had to plot a new running path because I can never see any of those people again.

But hey, at least I’m not this guy, right?