Friday, April 16, 2010

The Chicken Story

About 28 years ago i lived in an old farmhouse just a few miles out of Charelston, Oregon. It sat about a quarter mile back off the road, was nice and private and quiet. Well, quiet most of the time. There were those "party days".... shhhhhh, don't tell anyone, i used to be a fun kinda gal.
Anyway, i was working at Hallmark Fisheries at the time, a not so great job that paid super good. They processed fish, shrimp, crab, and whatever else. I would buy a 5 lb. can of 100 count shrimp, it was the cheapest as the shrimp were small, very small, 100 to a pound. I would try to buy it and hide it so no one would know, but someone always saw me carry the can out to my car, so the party would be on. My tempura shrimp clumps were well known and i couldn't fix it without half the town coming to enjoy it.
Of course, with shrimp goes a lot of other things. People would bring salads and sweets, brownies, pies, and all manner of good things to eat....and drink. It's the drink part that is to blame for most of the funny stories i have to tell about living there.
This time, after much shrimp munching, and salad crunching, and drink slurping, a crazy fisherman decided i should fry a chicken for an after meal snack. We only had one chicken, and he was a rooster. A mean hateful "chase ya peck ya if ya come close" kind of rooster. He had had his fun with a good number of my friends, and left a scar or two for memories sake, so needless to say, when the crazy fisherman made his suggestion he got overwhelming approval. Everybody really hated that rooster.
The rooster, being smarter than a crowd of drunk fishermen, decided it was time to get outta Dodge and proceeded to make a run for it instead attacking. He ran those guys around and around that house, first one way than the other. Once in a while he would throw a loop and run around and among the parked cars. I think he really enjoyed the "clunk thunks" he could hear when a fisherman didn't cut the corner close enough and ran into a fender or something. And i know he really loved the cursing and swearing, the "OWE!"  and the "DAMN THAT HURT" he was hearing. Did i tell you, he was one mean rooster? And smart?
The rooster won. He got away and was never seen in my yard again. But, you had to keep an eye out if you were walking past a certain alley in town. He had moved in.
As for the fishermen. They got their exercise that day. They also got cuts, bumps, bruises, headaches and even one loose tooth.
Did they learn a lesson? Have you ever seen a fisherman learn a lesson?
Oh, do i have some stories.


  1. HA! That rooster either understood English or smelled murder on the brain if he knew when to high-tail it outta there. Funny!

    Hope you have a great weekend!

  2. What a story! Roosters are notorious for being nasty. You may read one of my entries of one such encounter. A post back in 2009 of November, entitled, The Attack of Mr. Jimmy. He is still a "problem" when we sit for him and his hens.

    A shrimp salad is much less work! :))) Have a fabulous day!