The surly chicken is outside my office again.
He is a man about my height wearing a chicken suit that has presumably seen better days, although it is hard to know in what days the chicken suit would have been considered “good.” For one, it is made of yellow fur, which is less “chicken” and more “psychedelic Yeti.” But the big rubber chicken head on top leaves no doubt that this costume is intended for the impersonation of poultry.
For the past month or two, he’s been hanging around my block. I think he is promoting some local business, although he is never waving or being cheerful in the manner of most such mascots. Instead he loiters, shoulders slumped, turning his head that way and this as if daring anyone to to mention the yellow fur. Every once in a while, he will yell something at the passers-by, which might be an advertising slogan but might as easily be angry obscenities. The rubber mask muffles all words and ensures that the surly chicken will never, ever be understood. All I know is that his tone is not encouraging.
I mean, I guess he’s promoting a business. He could just be a guy whose tether to sanity has snapped, rather spectacularly, and this is his chosen method of crazy. But sometimes he seems to be clutching fistfuls of coupons. I really would like to take one, if for no other reason to find out what business could possibly believe that this is the best way to get themselves out there. But I am somewhat afraid of the surly chicken.
Today I went out to grab lunch, and the surly chicken was yelling at the Daily News guy. At least, I think he was, and the newsguy seemed to think so too.
Will I eventually get to see the surly chicken take someone on? I will report.
Next week: big announcements coming!