It was July 2017. I was en route to SFMOMA, stoned out of my mind, and couldn’t stop laughing. I scoured Twitter for the chicken origin story, but came up empty. If I didn’t have that photo on my phone, I would assume I had imagined it.
My favorite thing about visiting a new city is walking around and observing shit. This is how I get a feel for the people, the pace of life, and maybe even some of the problems. In 2017, that street chicken felt like an appropriate symbol for SF, a place so intriguing that I could easily overlook its unsavory elements.