Monday, March 27, 2006

Chicken Freakin' See

I was working in my garage one day when a guy got out of his car and walked up the driveway. "Are you Dave Morris?"

"Yeah, can I help you?"

"Social security number XXX-YY-ZZZZ?" At this point, I'm wondering who's dead. I asked who he was. He pulled out his card. "Officer Ben Dover (real name) (not really, I'm protecting his anonymity) (actually that's not true either, I just don't remember his real name, otherwise I'd gladly use it - I have no respect for others' privacy) from the Ellisville police department." Unmarked car, plain clothes.

I invited him in. He proceeded to tell me about how he'd tracked me down via my former apartment manager, who knew my butcher, who was friends with my baker, who's sister dated my candlestick maker, who knew my address. He said they had a guy in custody who had stolen my identity and was opening accounts, renting vehicles, etc. under my name.

I immediately freaked out. I'd heard stories of how this happened fairly regularly, but it had never happened to me. I'd never lost my wallet, never left my credit cards anywhere... nothing.

The cop said this guy had gotten a driver's license, gym membership, etc. using my name, but hadn't charged anything to any of my current accounts, banged my wife, or anything else of a malicious nature.

Well, maybe he had banged my wife. I didn't know for sure. But anyway.

Just then, the doorbell rang. My brain still swimming, I left the cop sitting in the kitchen for a minute while I headed to the door, prepared to bust some Jehovah's Witness cap. I never anticipated what I'd see next.

Skinny legs, fluffy white feathers, beak. Your standard run-of-the-mill Gallus Domesticus. Well, I should say, a guy dressed up in a chicken suit.

I took one hesitant step backward, while quickly replaying the last few minutes in my head.

Cop tracked me down. Stolen identity.

Man in chicken suit at door.

Yep. It was all true. For a moment, I contemplated the possibility that I had slipped deep into the Twilight Zone. Next, I considered that huffing whipped cream from aeresol cans throughout my adolescent years had taken its toll.

Then, I became suspicious. It crossed my mind that these two guys could be working in cahoots, looking for unsuspecting people to rob or pillage. Or, that my friends had been busy planning some sort of retribution for something.

So with chicken man in plain sight, I looked back into the kitchen, half expecting to see that the cop had changed into a gorilla suit and was rifling through drawers, pocketing silverware. That was not the case, he was quietly sitting at the table where I had left him.

"Can I help you?"

Off came the chicken head. It was Bill, the Schwann's man, making the rounds, taking orders, delivering food.

In a goddamn chicken suit.

Side note: It must have been a real shitty day when Bill - a grown man making 10 dollars an hour driving around in a smelly, faded mascot outfit selling frozen food door-to-door - realized that he had made such a serious vocational error.
Despite it all, I was curiously calm. This was, I reassured myself, simply a set of coincidental circumstances that, in a billion years, could never be repeated.

I told Bill we didn't need anything this week, but that he made a really good-looking chicken. He laughed and informed me he had studied method acting in college. He went on his way.

I then went to the phone and called the number on the cop's business card, just to make sure he WAS an officer. It all checked out.

The cop told me he needed nothing from me... the suspect was in custody and would be facing all the appropriate charges, but that he'd follow up in a few days with a progress report, to give me a little peace of mind. I told him thanks, and he left.

I sat quietly for a few minutes, pondering the events of the day. I'm not sure if I felt more violated by the stolen identity or the chicken man. It was only about 11 am, but this would be as good a time as any to start drinking.

15 comments:

Blogarita said...

Didn't your boss, Mark, threaten to fire you because a bunch of us were always huffing whipped cream at the station after hours? Good times, man.

... said...

I thought for sure you were going to say the entire thing was a practical joke...sorry to hear about your identity. Hopefully there are not serious problems and this guy gets the trouble he deserves.

Me! said...

I thought maybe it was two of your friends playing a joke on you too. I mean, seriously. This doesn't happen to people. A chicken suit and a cop all in a matter of minutes!?! That's some priceless shit right there!

Well, at least if the guy that stole your identity was using it to beef up at the gym. He'll need it in jail to ward off the guys wanting to use him as their bitch.

OldHorsetailSnake said...

So, now, do you know who you are?

Really?

(I think this could have been 2 or 3 b**gs. Maybe a serial. So it goes.)

Nichole said...

That could only happen to you, Dave.

At least the Schwann's guy wasnt skeery looking like this guy:

http://www.subservientchicken.com/

Unknown said...

LMFAO, that is awesome!!

Shit I wish some interesting ass shit like that would happen to me...but hey fuck it cheers right!!

Bottoms Up!

Jam

Lee Ann said...

Dave, I cannot stop laughing about this. I thought for sure they were working together. I thought maybe they would break out the boom box and start stripping or something.
Hahaha.....
Then I thought the same thing you did, that they may be there to rob you. I was thinking maybe the "cop" was going to run up behind you while you were at the door and knock you over the head or something.
Then I thought...maybe candid camera!
How odd that this occured on the same day at the same time.
At any rate, you have totally made my night, I was laughing so hard, tears came to my eyes.

Diana said...

That's bizzare!

Just Some Guy on the Radio said...

Y'know...if you can just get the identity thief to pay your alimony and child support.....maybe you should let him keep it!

Maven said...

http://www.subservientchicken.com

It's a riot!

Amandarama said...

The chicken people around here only push chicken pot pie. Damn. That was a nutty incident. I blame The Man.

CP said...

It has all the makings of a really good country song, Dave. I'd start writing, now, while it's all fresh in your mind.

Let's see...

I was drinkin' a beer when the cop came to my door,
told me I been ass raped by an identity whore,
That was really bad.
But at least it's over,
thanks to a visit from Officer Ben Dover.
But oooooooooooh, what to do with the man in the chicken suit!
Ooooooooooh...is he workin' alone or in cahoots?
Ooooooooooooh...are they going to
steal my wife,
take my life,
will this chicken cut me with a knife?

Yeah, yeah, I got a cop in the kitchen and a chicken at my door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yup. All the makings of a good country song. Get to work.

Certifiable Chicken.

er...CP.

phoenix said...

LOL Dave I would have been having a cow! (Not literally) but holy smokes! I had the same thought about working together to rob you... then I imagined the stripper thing too.

Only you Dave... it could only happen to you LOL!

Crystal said...

i hate it when gorillas come into my house and start pocketing silverware.

Anonymous said...

Wow... now that is a day I wish I could have been at your place hanging out in the background just wondering... Isn't that guy from Candid Camera dead? Or, I could have snapped and beat the shit out of the friggin poultry performer. However, when all is said and done, knowing you and all you have been through in the last few months... Nope, that doesn't surprise me a friggin bit.