Pigeon poo greeted us as rocked up to the Table of Dreams on Friday lunchtime. Which was a little shit. Actually, it was quite a big shit. Neither of us could be arsed to try and clean it up.
The game then took on a new dimension: an extra point was awarded if you managed to land the wind ball on the large pile of pigeon poo. Or maybe that should have been if you managed to avoid the mess, such was the size and scale?
We pressed on. I was crap. I lost 4-2.
POO all round.
