Friday, July 13, 2007
I was too nervous to go knocking on doors, asking about the missing bird, but I did realized that I could go into the dry cleaner downstairs (next to the Chamber of Commerce) to ask questions under the pretense of bringing in dirty clothes (I brought the tie I wore to my cousin's wedding. You may have noticed the spot on it in the picture). The guy who runs the place is very nice and always remembers my name. Sadly, I never remember his.
Me: Do you know anything about the bird that was out in the back area last week?
Dry Cleaning Guy: Yes, he's mine. My baby. [bringing cage with bird in it from back of store] A woman found him a few blocks over. He opened the cage himself, with his beak, and flew away. I couldn't catch him. He's done it before, crazy bird. But he's home now, aren't you?
Me: What's his name?
Dry Cleaning Guy: His name is Kevin.
Me: Hey Kevin.
Case closed. Mystery solved.
It seems to me that a bird who can open his own cage and who had flair feathers on the top of his head should have an exotic name...
: 9:32 PM, July 15, 2007People called me crazy, when I said it was a great pet name. Ah sweet vindication.
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