When I lived in Williamsburg I walked my dog, Sam, past aluminum-sided immigrant houses and knew the chicken bone-littered areas to avoid. I've even seen the old men sitting on benches with Styrofoam containers, chowing down and discarding the inedible bits of chicken wings. When I moved to beautiful Fort Greene I imagined strolling past 19th-century brownstones with the pup, taking in the architecture and the friendly stoop-dwellers. Instead I am staring at the ground, trying to spot the bones before Sam does. Fort Greene's chicken bone problem is out of control! Where are so many chickens coming from that they must be consumed while walking down the street?! Then I see it: A teenage girl with a group of friends exits a deli with a bag. She stands on the sidewalk and draws greasy bits of the former bird out of the bag and slides them into her mouth. When she gets a bone she picks it clean and tosses it. About this time she comments to her friend that there isn't enough skin and she got ripped off, then she finishes the food and crumples the bag, walks to the curb and drops it in the street. A trash can is four paces from where she is standing.
Monday, December 6, 2010
chicken bone way
When I lived in Williamsburg I walked my dog, Sam, past aluminum-sided immigrant houses and knew the chicken bone-littered areas to avoid. I've even seen the old men sitting on benches with Styrofoam containers, chowing down and discarding the inedible bits of chicken wings. When I moved to beautiful Fort Greene I imagined strolling past 19th-century brownstones with the pup, taking in the architecture and the friendly stoop-dwellers. Instead I am staring at the ground, trying to spot the bones before Sam does. Fort Greene's chicken bone problem is out of control! Where are so many chickens coming from that they must be consumed while walking down the street?! Then I see it: A teenage girl with a group of friends exits a deli with a bag. She stands on the sidewalk and draws greasy bits of the former bird out of the bag and slides them into her mouth. When she gets a bone she picks it clean and tosses it. About this time she comments to her friend that there isn't enough skin and she got ripped off, then she finishes the food and crumples the bag, walks to the curb and drops it in the street. A trash can is four paces from where she is standing.
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