The Rooster Roaster

Remember the annoying red neon sign of Kenny Roasters restaurant beaming in Kramer's apartment on Seinfeld's Chicken Roaster epsiode? Well, what I am about to describe is sitcom similar to that only on a personal level.

I fear mentioning a name here on account of reprisal, but a good friend of mine has made pals with a wild rooster. By the time I tried to talk sense into my friend's choice of strange pets, it was already too late. He already started to feed the rooster. He encouraged the scruffy animal to come closer with each passing building of trust. The lonely rooster must have took a fancy to all the attention because he started to live at my friend's house. Their relationship blossomed when he started to make a habit of petting the rooster's crown even picking it up and cradling it like a newborn baby. Maybe it was a jealous streak but the rooster started to peek in the windows and wait by the entry doors for my friend.

When my friend telephoned to ask me in hushtones if I flat out knew anything about rooster sexual habits, my imagination feared the worst. It was at this point that I was afraid to ask him if he knew anything about rooster sexual habits. I learned that my friend, the loveable lug that he is, bought the rooster hay bedding and other creature comforts when money was believed to be tight. He now finds it comfortable talking about the rooster in public to the mailman and the like.

As irony can only dictate, I find myself at this same friend's Super Bowl party, a gala event in which I find him cruelly serving chicken wings mind you. Before long, I am prompted out onto the wood deck to visit the rooster. I step outside into the wintry night air to pay quick homage to the harebrained rooster. Perched in the tree is the fabled rooster sleeping away the bone-chilling night roasting by ultraviolet lighting. I got to admit that a rooster in a tree turned tanning bed is the last sight I would expect to find to outshine a Prince at a Super Bowl halftime show. The gamecock stirred and gave me one of those stares to crow about because at that point in time he was warmer than me.

I started to rationalize the odd sight but it boggled my mind. Homeless man wanders street in winter, homeless man freezes to death. Rooster climbs tree to escape predators, my enamored friend puts a warm spotlight on him. I thought all this was a bit strange so I tried to keep my laughter to a minimum. The other party guests must have been equally polite because they were bantering on about the rooster too.

That night I thought a lot about my friend and the rooster more than even the actual championship football game. The next day, I went to the gym where I saw a friend of mine sitting in his idling car in the parking lot. His door ajar, he proudly fed a live squirrel a part of his bag lunch. The squirrel pranced on his lap and did tricks for breadcrumbs.

I am starting to think I got to domesticate a billy goat to fit in socially.