Legend of the Rooster

So the other day two of my co-workers, who shall remain nameless, were searching the streets of Brooklyn Heights for anything to entertain them during their lunch break. During their adventures, they stumbled upon a Duane Reade, which is crazy since these establishments only exist on every corner in the City. Anyway, after entering the DU- ON Re-DAY as I pronounce it (similar to how people pronounce, Target, Tarjay), they found the most glorious object every created by man (ok maybe not but man this is pretty cool)... The Rooster!!! (pictured below)



Apparently, DU-ON Re-DAY has a fall fashion line, which contains all that the avid leaf watcher would need to decorate their studio apartment in preparation for the upcoming months of autumn. Although, I do not know the extent of this line, I am willing to speculate that if they have the Rooster, I would imagine that they have covered all of their bases for this season i.e. pumpkins, fake leaves, fake cornstalks, scarecrows, and fake candy apples with razor blades in them. The point of the matter is that my co-workers purchased one of these fine specimen and brought the little fella back to the office where he spent the day scaring other workers who entered said co-worker's office not expecting to see the Rooster.

Now, originally, I did not own a Rooster. Instead, I was left only to admire the Rooster from afar, secretly wanting him for my own, but keeping this desire to myself. That was until one day on the way to lunch, I decided to pull one of my usual moody bitch outbursts, which was caused by a discussion about Canada of all places, leaving the two co-workers to eat by themselves and me to eat a enchilada all by my lonesome. As a result of this tantrum, my co-workers being the kind folk that they are purchased a Rooster for me in order to tell me to buck up and get over myself.

Now, instead of being upset, I was filled with glee like a child on Christmas morning. In order to show my happiness, I brought the Rooster to our nightly office meeting that day displaying him to all of my co-workers. I also made certain that he was placed prominently in my office so that no matter who entered, the Rooster was in sight. Finally, I named the Rooster, Pedro.

But soon thereafter, it became apparent that all was not what it seemed in Roosterland because now that I owned the Rooster, he would not leave me alone. He was always staring at me with those beady little eyes while I attempted to perform my daily tasks, silently judging demonstrating marked dissaproval of my actions. Moreover, when I would have to prepare witnesses for depositions, he would make them feel uneasy as the witnesses often complained that they felt like he was silently telling them that he did not believe a word that they were telling me. Further, he took over my entire office causing me to feel very uncomfortable about the entire situation. In retrospect, I am not sure if the Rooster was such a good idea. I mean with the Rooster comes great responsibility.

Sadly, there is nothing that I can do. Who am I to send the Rooster out into the world unprepared for its many potential pitfalls and dangers? What kind of human being would I be? Needless to say, I cannot and will not do it, and as a result, I am left to coexist with the Rooster for the rest of eternity or until I throw his fake ass in the garbage.

Anyway, I documented what has happened ever since the Rooster entered my life so that you can understand the magnititude of his interruptions and his reign of terror.

Note: What you are about to see is not only troubling but quite frankly just plain wrong... WRONG I SAY... damn you Rooster...

First, here is the Rooster preventing me from doing any work. Now, although in this picture it may appear that he is actually doing my work, I assure you that the Rooster can neither read nor write. Once again, he is useless and disruptive.... and yet, clever...


Next, here is the Rooster sitting in the witness' chair. The problem here is that this is where the witness is supposed to sit. How can the witness sit in the chair if the Rooster is sitting there? Further, this chair is located directly in front of my desk so the Rooster can simply sit, stare, and judge all day long.



Here is where I put my foot down. A man goes to the bathroom, and then, he comes back to find the Rooster in his chair... Conclusion: The Rooster has no manners.



In the next couple of pictures, I am not clear as to what exactly the Rooster was doing. In the first one, it appears that he is challenging Bobblehead Jim Calhoun to a good old fashion fistfight..



And here, it appears that the paranoia has finally set in, and the Rooster is preparing to head out for battle. In the alternative, I am not sure where the football game was or what position he plays, but since he lacks arms, any type of catching or receiving position is clearly off the table.



Finally, the last three pictures, I will spare comment on, but for the following, the Rooster cannot operate a printer or a copier, and yes, we have a fake lawn ornament snowman in my office....

Not possible...




Impossible...



Poor Snowman...



Finally, a couple of notes about the above, I wrote the entire entry while I was stone cold sober so I have no one to blame but myself for what is written above. As a result, if you think it is dumb as shit, blame me.

If you do think it is dumb as shit, however, here is a suggestion, simply replace the word "Rooster" each time it is used above with the synonym for Rooster, "Cock," so hopefully, you and your 15 year old little brother will have an entire night of laughs...

Till tomorrow suckers!!!