The Day A Pigeon Came To My Rescue

From the title, I’m guessing you’re not sure what this post could possibly be about. Saved by a pigeon? How is that even possible? Trust me though, it’s true. I’ve heard of pigeons being referred to as many things (most notably ‘rats with wings’) but I’ll never forget the evening a pigeon came to my rescue.


We’ve all been on disastrous dates, right? I had agreed to go on a date with a long-haired, bearded gig promoter from Glasgow. We shared a mutual love of thrashing drums and epic guitar solos which is an instant attraction for me. Texting back and forth, we seemed to get on pretty well but I definitely held back – there’s nothing worse than text overkill before the first date.

As I got ready, I suddenly had this gut feeling telling me not to go. I just put it down to a long day at work, blotted my lipstick and grabbed my handbag. What if it turns out to be the best first date I’ve ever had? Lesson learned: hindsight is seriously a wonderful thing.

We had agreed to meet at one of my favourite bars for pizza. As the waiter brought over our food , I was looking forward to getting to know him a little better. He started to talk: his family, his life, his career. I waited on the obligatory ‘tell me about yourself’ but it never came. He went on, and on, and on. I looked down and realised I was half way through my pizza. He had barely polished off a slice.

‘ I have 637 Facebook friends and they’re all personal friends of mine’ WHAT?! What the hell was wrong with this guy?! My head was throbbing. I’d spent almost two hours listening to him ramble on non-stop about himself; he didn’t stop to take a breath never mind to ask me anything. I waited for a split second interlude so I could tell him I was going to the bathroom (I secretly wanted to make a run for it, but we were right beside the exit). Who the hell was I kidding? That second wasn’t going to come any time soon.

‘I need to go to the bathroom’ I blurted out as he was mid-sentence, rambling on about another ‘successful gig’ he had put together. I started to get up from my chair when he stood up abruptly . ‘You do realise that I am speaking?’ I couldn’t even bring myself to dignify his question with a response so mumbling, I walked off to the bathroom. I secretly hoped he would leave and the nightmare would be over.

I was so grateful for the solitary confinement of the bathroom cubicle. The meal was over (even though he insisted on paying, it wasn’t worth the free pizza).I was going to politely make my excuses and leave, proving that at least one of us was blessed with good manners. I counted to ten and made my way back out to the table. All I could think about was the sigh of relief I was about to breathe when he was long gone. I’d never need to see him again.

Clearly he hadn’t finished reciting his memoirs because I returned to the table to find he had gone to the liberty of ordering another round of drinks.  I don’t think I’ve ever drank a vodka and coke so quickly; not even during freshers week at university. We left the bar and despite all my pleads, he walked me to the bus stop.

I was on my knees, begging for the bus to arrive. Okay, that was in my head. In reality, it was the most uncomfortable five minutes of my life. I could feel him shuffling closer to me, his arm reaching round my waist. I knew he was about to try to kiss me. I thought about just making a run for it.

Right at that moment,  a pigeon swooped down (I’m going to pretend it heard my plight and was coming to save me) and shit on him. Yup, pigeon shit all down the back of his shirt, narrowly missing his long mane. I didn’t even have time to react because my bus literally stopped there and then. I managed to blurt out goodbye (holding in my laughter rather successfully) and ran onto the bus, sitting on the opposite side so there was no need for the awkward goodbye wave.

He text me about an hour later, asking if I wanted to go on a second date which to this day, still confuses me. On what level did he think that was a success? He knew absolutely nothing about me and there wasn’t enough paracetamol in the world to get me through another evening with him. I replied telling him I didn’t think there was a spark and never heard from him again.

I’ve been to my fair share of gigs since then and we’ve never bumped into each other. Maybe he’s moved on to bigger and better things or put me on his ‘list of enemies’ since I reduced the number of his Facebook friends to 636. Or both. I’d send the pigeon a friends request if I could. I have a new-found respect for pigeons.

Months later, I had my perfect first date with Mr Blues. There was no pigeon shit involved (although I hear it’s lucky).

Please don’t make me feel alone here! Tell me about your dating disasters. 


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