Some people can write poetry. Others can write hella good fictional stories/inspirational pieces. Me? I can just share life experiences in hopes of making someone smile or be less bored.
So this is the story of how I dislocated my shoulder because of a pigeon.
Picture a nice, sunny day, not a cloud in the sky. And it was hot af. Its always hot af. I had my radio turned all the way up, my sunglasses and my stringed bikini on.
Now this is by all my favorite swimsuit. Its yellow and doesnt give weird tanlines. If I wanted to surf, its tight enough that my wetsuit can just go right over it no problem.
Anyways, little did I know the swimsuit would be the death of me. Or at least, part of the death of me.
As I walked towards my porch to overlook the ocean (back when i was 17 and visiting the beach), the birds started swarming. I had an issue with PBJs and birds. I like to feed the animals....which was mistake number two. Now for some odd reason there was a pigeon on the beach.
All the seagulls swarmed but i was genuinely interested why there was a pigeon-looking bird on the beach
As I took a step, the strings of my top got caugt on the stair rail. Damned the broken wood.
Mistake number three was when I swung around to get the tye off. And my PBJ fell from my hands.
When the birds swarmed down, I screamed and clumsy me managed to fall backwards down the stairs.
My top ripped, and Willow became a little ball of crazy spin-profanity-screaming-tangled blob.
When I reached the bottom, the last thing I remember seeing before passing out, is that the pigeon....was not a pigeon but rather, a small blob of peanut butter on my sunglasses.
And that my friends is the story of how I dislocated my shoulder because of a “pigeon”