The pigeon and the poisson

Imagine this: you are in New York City, at one of its most famous French restaurants. It is a warm July evening, and you are sitting out on the patio, enjoying a glass of chardonnay. You have ordered the poisson, prepared in a red wine reduction and with only the highest end accoutrements. While you wait for your dish, you take in the ambiance, relishing the brownstone-lined street and enjoying watching passers-by go about their mysterious errands.

You see your server appear with what you presume to be your food, and you are delighted. You were just starting to get to the point of being uncomfortably hungry, and you are very excited about this meal. It is a bit of a splurge for you (the entree alone costs $170, not to mention the wine which is … expensive).

The server has almost reached your table when a pigeon flies by overhead and takes a shit on your poisson. You and the server make eye contact, and he apologizes profusely and says that this has never happened before, and that he will order you another poisson right away. The amount that you were willing to pay for that food has gone, within milliseconds, from $170 to $0.

A slightly different scenario: You have been enjoying your poisson, and are savoring a wine-reducted mouthful when the same pigeon alights from a building and takes a shit on your plate. You grimace. Somehow the food you were enjoying has also become soiled and you are taken with the idea that you were just consuming pigeon excrement.

You call over the server and explain your unfortunate situation, and he is very apologetic and immediately goes and orders a new poisson.

In either case, the presence of pigeon shit, indeed, even just the suggestion of it, is enough to taint your meal, and quite possibly, the meals of those around you.

The moral: it is easier to destroy than to create.