Today on my way to work I saw a couple of chickens hunting for their morning breakfast on the side of the road. I drive through Easton, so that’s not all that weird. But if you knew me, then you’d know this is the third commute that has been plagued by fowl of the edible kind, and frankly, it’s starting to get weird.
During a very dark time in my life, I lived in New Jersey. I commuted from Edgewater into NYC every day via NJ Transit bus. Quite often I read, or just went to sleep, but every once in awhile, I just stared out the window. On one such occasion I was rather surprised to see a couple of chickens hanging out on the roadside.
You’re probably more familiar with Edgewater, NJ than you know. Remember when that guy landed that plane in the Hudson River earlier this year? Well, you probably caught a glimpse of Edgewater as you watched that footage. When you’re driving over the George Washington Bridge and you look down the Hudson toward Manhattan (the real Manhattan, not the Bronx), you may or may not notice Edgewater on the other side of the river. The bus I took every day drove down the main road in town, which carried hundreds if not thousands of people to the Lincoln Tunnel everyday. It was littered with condos, apartment complexes, and shopping complexes. And on the side of the road was a little flock of chickens.
Luckily, I got out of there after a year. I moved to Norwalk, and I took the train from the East Norwalk Train Station everyday. I parked down the road, and around the corner, and cut through a church parking lot on my walk to the station. One day, I looked to my left, and there was a chicken (could have been a rooster) pecking the ground under a tree in the church yard. I saw it a few more times before it disappeared for good. I think the panaderia across the road caught it and put it in a mince meat pie or something.
So, I moved again a little over a month ago. Now my commute consists of a nice leisurely drive through the beautiful town of Easton, CT. And this morning, standing on the side of the road, I saw a couple of chickens. I can only conclude one thing: chickens are slowly colonizing the east coast, kinda like those parrots in Westport (which, coincidentally, also lived in Edgewater).
Beware, people of Connecticut! Not only are you under siege by heinous creatures from the black lagoon (aka Long Island Sound) but now you have to worry about chickens pissed off about you and your ancestors having eaten their unborn chicks, and relatives for thousands of year. Lock your doors.