Eat More Chicken

March 28 (I think) 2020 (I’m sure)

Dear Sis,

Gloria in the office got all bent out of shape about calling it Chinese. “It’s racist.” She said. She came out to the shop to have a smoke and since I had the fire wrench going, I gave her a light. She has this real sexy way of smoking where she stands with her left arm folded under her breasts and holds the cig in her right hand and waves it around her face while she talks. “Yeah that is definitely racist. Those poor people got it from bats. That’s all they have to eat for godsakes.”

“Yeah, well they should eat fewer bats then. And more chicken.”

This thing is getting out of hand now. Larry came in the other day and had one of those websites on his phone he looks at (no not pornhub lol) that says the ‘Rona ‘attacks men’s testicles’. Now that is some serious shit. This article said that it actually eats all the sperm and then your nut explodes. He said this is what caused most of the deaths, at least in men.

“That’s some bad ass flu.”

“It ain’t the flu, Mace. That’s the point. Its new. That’s what ‘novel’ means in its name.”

Yeah, let’s say he’s right. OK, then why can’t the China part of its name mean that it’s from China?

Yancey came in today with this, like, Zorro Mask on. “I don’t see how this is supposed to help.” he said. I don’t think he was kidding. That’s the kind of thing you get with the guys we have working around here. I guess he thought that was really supposed to protect him. A few bricks short of a full load. Big John said he was sure he was kidding, but I dunno.

One funny thing did happen the other day, sis. Maybe you could ask Dianne about it? I was lying in bed waiting for the alarm to go off, kind of awake but not really and I kept hearing what sounded like a marching band coming down the street under my window. Not the whole band playing. Just the drum line. And it was a really really cool cadence and the bass drums were all balanced with the snares like Boom da da Boom crack Boom da da boom crack. And it kept getting closer and closer and then I realized it was IN my ears. It was my heart. Weird, Huh?

I didn’t feel like getting up after that so I just called in and told Tony I was anti-social distancing.

Mornin’ came and mornin’ went; still me, still here, still baffled by the bullshit,

Su hermano guapo,


Next Letter: April Fool

Author: hsderkin

H. Scott Derkin lives with his wife and a scruffy miniature poodle mix on the banks of a river in NW Michigan. By not taking into account his shortcomings, his wife has managed to stay with him for over half a century.