the cabal of clucking cattle
on a lunch rushed by hen party hysteria
Their voices were like nails on a chalkboard, cutting through the air and bouncing off every bit of glass, steel and concrete in the joint.
Shrill and filled with delight these women were enjoying themselves bigly.
They had only been in Crave Burger five minutes and these beings in total control of herselves filled the space with their cluckings and cackles of delight.
You ever hear the term ‘manspreading’ Dad? Some women actually think that men are the only ones who take over a room…
Though with these women there wasn’t a lot of thinking. Clucking and crowing? Sure.
Self awareness? Not so much.
They were the only people in the room as far as they could tell. Each expression of delighted affirmation of Oh I know, even louder than the previous one.
Only the words ‘oh I know sounded like the lowing of screaming cattle bellowing to each other from either side of a valley.
The grass is really great here!
Oh I knoooowwww they mooed.
Between my father’s aged ears and my sensitivity and inability to filter sound, he and I stopped speaking.
They sure seem excited Dad.
Wha? I can’t hear you over the clucking cattle.
We let another moment or two pass before we shook our heads and gathered up our meals.
Let’s eat in the truck and look at the harbour.
Once there we were there we laughed.
That’s basically what’s happening everywhere. The cattle are taking over with no sense at all of their place in the world.
Could we have stayed in the burger joint and continued our meal?
Sure.
But it was better outside, together watching ships pass oblivious to the lowing delight of the bovine burger eaters.
