Right here where the photo was snapped! Ye gods! The rooster I saw on the bicycle, the one crowing his heart out, was Mr. Clucky, a famous South Beach denizen and one who is in trouble.
Mr. Clucky's owner keeps him in a closet, and apparently the neighbors complained about the crowing. Mr. Clucky's closet mate is a hen called Wallflower.
Mr. Clucky has been asked to vacate his residence by the Powers That Be in South Beach. What's a good looking studly rooster to do?
Apparently all the habituees of the Lincoln Road Mall have seen Mr. Clucky whiz by with his talons firmly grasping the handlebars of the red Schwinn. How do I know this?
My friend Joan who chauffered me around South Florida and kept me company being Barflies 'r us, sent me the clipping from the Miami Herald, the very same paper my drug lord reads. In fact I was at Lincoln Road Mall to find the Cuban restaurant where my drug lord ate a Cubano, but either we were in the wrong end of the mall or that cafe is gone. But we sure gaped at and heard Mr. Clucky, who serenaded the mall with his rooster voice. Coming from Key West, the crowing of roosters was a normal sound. But not in a mall. Nope.
I hope the city lets Mr. Clucky continue to reside in his owner's closet. The world needs more gentle craziness.