Later. A short walk to the post office to mail a bill I'd forgotten in the pile. There's still three days left before it's due, I could have mailed it in the morning, but it gave me an excuse to get out again and maybe think of something for lunch. Camera insurance. I'd complain if I wasn't still paying as much on that storage locker in Alameda at the naval base. Dumb. Dumb, dumb.

I then went by KFC to buy their Wednesday two piece chicken, corn and biscuit special. I haven't been to a KFC in months, but I was hungry and curious to see if anything they had could appeal. Turns out it also comes with mashed potatoes. Sitting then at a table outside I was joined by a guy with red eyes. Hmm. Expectant red eyes. I threw him a piece of biscuit. Which he ignored. Didn't give it as much as a glance. Two pigeons, however, darted in and gobbled them up. OK. This guy hadn't come for bread. Mashed potatoes?

Did I mention I wasn't sure I'd be able to eat any of this, um, stuff? I was able to eat the mashed potatoes. I was going to say tasteless, but I got them down just fine. I was able to eat my share of the biscuit I split with the pigeons. The corn on the cob was good and I finished the drumstick, as it was small, but I was having trouble with the chicken breast, leaving it for last. My lunch guest was still giving me the eye. The red eye. The pigeons were holding their distance but watching closely. They've all of them obviously done this before. It occurred to me I may not be the first person who's eaten at this table with visitors.

I broke off a piece of the chicken breast and tossed it to Red Eyes - Wham! - learning that birds, red eyed birds, anyway, eat other birds at least when they're fried. OK. A piece for me, two pieces for him. Or her. The pigeons were seriously outweighed and stayed in the background, so I don't know if pigeons eat fried chicken too, but I suspect that they do.

A walk then back to the apartment to watch the news, a chicken breast wiser than I'd been when I started, the evening ahead.