“Lookit here,” Lula said. “It’s the dancin’ chicken. I love that chicken. I like his red hat and his big chicken feet. I bet there’s a real cute guy inside that chicken suit. You’d have to be cute to get a job as Mister Clucky.”
I was betting there was a scrawny kid with a bad complexion inside the suit.
Lula got out of the car and went up to Mister Clucky. “You’re a big Mister Clucky,” Lula said. “You must be new. I got a bet with my friend that you’re a real cutie-pie. How’d you like to give us a look?”
“How’d you like my beak up your ass?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Fuck off, fatso.”
“Fatso? Did I hear you call me fatso? Because I better be mistaken.”
“Fatso. Fatso. Fatty fatty fatso.”
Lula took a closer look at Mister Clucky. “Hold on here. I recognize your voice.”
“No you don’t,” Mister Clucky said.
“Larry? Is that you?”
“Maybe.”
Lula turned to Grandma and me. “This is Larry, the fireman I was telling you about.”
“The one who wears dresses?” Grandma asked.
“Yep. That’s the one,” Lula said.
“Lots of men wear dresses,” Mister Clucky said. “It’s not against the law.”
“That’s real true,” Lula said. “And I’ve been reviewing our unfortunate date, and I decided you didn’t look all that bad in that turquoise cocktail dress. Now that I’m thinking about it, that gown might have brought out the color of your eyes.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Yeah. That gown was made for you,” Lula said. “In fact, if you want to let bygones be bygones I might let you try it on again.”
“I saw you had a beaded sweater that looked like it might match,” Mister Clucky said.
“Yeah, you can wear the sweater, too.”
He adjusted his clucky head and hiked up his privates. “I have to work until nine.”
“That’s fine,” Lula said. “Only thing is, I’m staying someplace else. I’ll get my food and come back with my new address.”
We put our orders in and moved to the pickup station.
“He seemed like a real nice chicken,” Grandma said.
“Yeah,” Lula said. “I guess he’s not so bad. And he’s a real good dancer in his chicken suit. And on top of that, I bet he could get me a discount on chicken. He just took me by surprise the other night, causing me to overreact about the dress.”
We all had the Clucky Dinner Tray, plus Lula supplemented hers with a side of biscuits and a bucket of barbecue chicken, which she
said was research. She wrote my address on a napkin and handed it to Mister Clucky when we left.
“It must be fun to be Mister Clucky,” Lula said to him.
“Yeah, the suit is pretty cool, and I get to dance around. Mostly, I do it for spending money, though. I do okay as a fireman, but nice handbags don’t come cheap.”