Chicken for lunch

We were having lunch at Willie T's on Duval Street today when the chicken crossed the road to join us.

This was not Blue Heaven, on Thomas, where yardbirds scratch in the soil under the table bases. This was Duval, and this magnificent rooster came up to us to see what he could cadge.

Robert threw out a sweet-potato fry, and he made short work of it.

I looked at him, thought of every iridescent coq-feather bit of couture I'd ever seen, assessed the difference, and ordered a ham panini though I'd been planning on smoked chicken.

Handsome devil.