there’s this building that i always walk past on my way to/from work that never fails to spark my curiousity. it seems like your typical brick warehouse/factory/office on the west side. drab and unkempt, there are no signs or labels on any of the doors or walls. the only thing i can see through the windows are the backs of tattered office chairs and some well worn desks.
anyway, everytime i walk past it in the mornings, i hear the loud, obscene chirping of what can only be described as A SPLEENLOAD OF BIRDS. i don’t know WHAT they’re doing (partying) or WHY they’re chirping so loudly (drunk) but i’d sure like to know if i was working next to a slaughterhouse. mmmm…chicken.
so after nine hours of hell, i emerge from my dank, moldy cubicle and crawl towards a series of long metal boxes that eventually send me home. on the way, i pass by the same building again but it’s always dead silent. i guess the chickens either passed out or were mercilessly butchered for meat.
man, i got a hankerin’ for wings.