I went to the Kaneohe Post Office to pick up an oversized package. As I approached the pick up service door I heard what sounded like a chicken.
The woman who opened the half door is a postal worker I have encountered many times before. She is very dry, deadpan.
The chicken crowed.
“Is that a chicken?”
Pause
“Yes.”
“A live chicken?” I know, I know… but I was asking in disbelief.
“Yes.”
The chicken crowed.
“Is it your pet?”
“No.”
The chicken crowed.
“YOU CAN MAIL A LIVE CHICKEN?!”
Long pause.
“Yes.”
The chicken crowed.
“How long has it been here?”
“All morning. I called his Father, but he has not come to pick him up.”
The chicken crowed… again.

