When we pass under the awning of the venerable gay bar, we do so with trepidation, knowing that at any second, a great, foul plop of bird excrement could land square on our shoulder, or worse, our hair. We've seen others pause at the corner of the street or next to nearby Jay's on Read and consider the sidewalk before them, narrowing their eyes and swallowing before steeling themselves for the shit-splattered passage. According to a bartender at the Drinkery, an upstairs neighbor daily refreshes the selection of sidewalk birdseed, attracting gaggles and gaggles of flying rats aka pigeons. There is no defense for the aerial onslaught other than to cross the street or speed-walk through the danger zone. Best of luck.