Mrs. Chicken and I visited Los Angeles last year. We had a day off, so we wandered down Hollywood Boulevard past Grauman’s Chinese Theatre.
People kept walking up to me asking if they could get a selfie. I figured maybe they’d seen one of my videos, so I smiled for the pictures.
Then they started handing me five-dollar bills.
The first couple of times I thought maybe I’d dropped something. By the tenth person I was wondering if California had some kind of tourism tax I didn’t know about. Finally I walked over to a guy dressed like Batman and asked,
“Excuse me… why does everybody keep giving me money?” He looked at me like I’d just fallen off the turnip truck. “Because that’s how we make a living.”
I said, “You mean people are paying me to stand here?”
He shrugged. “Pretty much.”
Mrs. Chicken wanted to stay another three hours.
I’m still not sure what happened.