Monday, November 8, 2010

Flaming Roosters

I realise this title may be misleading to some. Since I am a pescetarian (one who eats fish), the idea of roosters spontaneously combusting is not exactly something I would relish talking about. Especially in such a light hearted manner. What I mean by the title is more of a curse at roosters, similar to "those bloody roosters". On writing that however, I realise that bloody roosters are just as bad as flaming roosters.

The point of this tale is not to discuss the best curse word to describe the rooster, rather it is about an event; an event which caused much laguhter and possibly a bit of hysteria. When we were in South Africa, Mom, Kyle and I went to tea with Nan and Grandad. We went to a place called Second Cup, which whilst very charming and quaint (etc, etc), was home to a dozen or so roosters. Why they all chose to live together is somewhat of a mystery, as I'm sure they outnumbered the hens at least 3 to 1.

We were shown to a lovely table in the middle of the garden, cool and shaded, and surrounded by towering trees and colourful flowers. Oh, we were also surrounded by roosters, lots of roosters. Despite the fact that it was about 10 in the morning, the roosters still felt it necassary to crow every few minutes. Needless to say this did rather disrupt the quiet calm of the area in which we were seated. Mom thought that shouting at these roosters would help our case, they simply ignored her. Or I imagined they would have ignored her had they the brain capacity to perform the act of ignoring. Rather they just kept on cock-a-doodle-dooing. Very annoying.

Out of sheer desperation mom vehemently told the roosters that if they didn't stop shouting she would make sure they were turned into the day's chicken mayo mix. The roosters were not pleased. With a sudden flurry of wings and claws the roosters descended on our little table. Two of them landed on mom; one on her head, the other on her back, flapping wildy and sending feathers flying. Mom was now screeching (much louder than the roosters ever had) as another one landed on her plate, chicken mayo what? As these three dare devil roosters took off once again they stole Nan's cake decorations and serviette right from under her nose. Grandad seemed unflappable, Kyle found it highly amusing, Mom was in a state of rooster shock, Nan just seemed mildy surprised to find her serviette missing whilst I pretended that I hadn't in fact screeched and dived under the table. I swear, I really didn't.

The manager promptly arrived to apologize, his excuse being that the roosters had seen a rather attractive hen flaunting her feathers. I know the truth however, the roosters were quite obviously angered by mom's statement regarding the chicken mayo. We however had the last laugh. The manager informed us that the roosters would be in today's chicken mayo following this incident. We laughed nervously, not entirely sure if he was just joking. I'd like to think he was, those roosters looked much to tough to make a tasty chicken mayo mix.

*No roosters were harmed in the making of this tale*

No comments:

Post a Comment