Lonely Bones

If I’ve learned anything from this so far it is that fascinating things happen along the major Rochester thoroughfares, especially in the morning.

I’m on the road for the commute yet again, cruising along in my Main Squeeze (that’s my term of endearment… for my car). Almost to my office, I pause at a stop light along with half a dozen other drivers. We drowsily wait patiently for a green light. This time I’m safe and sound with my door securely shut. The driver in front of me though, starts to open his car door. My interest was immediately piqued.

Very slowly and ever so slightly, the door opens just a couple of inches. I blatantly stare, needing to know what this guy is doing. Out falls a chicken wing. An eaten, one-bone chicken wing to be precise.

I laughed, a lot. My brain went into overdrive thinking about the variety of possible circumstances concerning the life span of this chicken wing.

Let’s start at the most general level, his food of choice. I’m all for multi-tasking and eating on the road, but chicken wings? Does anyone really eat chicken wings while driving? Apparently some people do, and if you do so successfully, I applaud you. That’s talent! I can only imagine the amount of sauce that I would get on the steering wheel alone.

More specifically, let’s talk about the time of day that this incident occurred. How exactly does a miscellaneous chicken wing bone end up in a car at 8:30 in the morning? Did this guy have chicken wings for dinner last night, grabbed a leftover on his way out the door, and just finished eating it at this very stoplight? I’m a big fan of atypical breakfast foods, but chicken wings? Nicely done. Did he warm it up or eat it cold I wonder?

Inquiring minds need to know!

Maybe he had packed chicken wings for his lunch, and they were just sitting there in his passenger seat. So tantalizing and irresistible that he decided to risk the saucy mess and just went for it. Go big or go home. Or perhaps he was going home? A 3rd shifter. I might have witnessed the guilty remains of his midnight snack equivalent.

I have so many unanswered questions.

I’ll wrap it up though by asking why it was necessary to open the car door to discard one solitary chicken wing bone? Could he not have just rolled down his window? Or better yet, set it aside to dispose of in the proper receptacle at a later time? I suppose that cup holders can suffice as chicken wing bone holders, in times of need.

Fortunately this does clear up one mystery that has been hounding me for years. I often see lonely chicken wing bones alongside the road/sidewalk/grassy areas etc.., when I walk my dog. The dog thinks they are little party favors and I have to be on top of my game to see them before he does. Up until yesterday I had always assumed that the origin of these lonely bones were scoundrel, garbage-stealing squirrels.

Silly me. Now I know.

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