Chicken days of summer

We are in the dog days of summer. I never knew what exactly that phrase meant. Oh, I knew it meant it was hot. But I didn't know why it meant that. Now I do. In the middle of summer in Korea, you go eat dog soup. Or you don't. Some people do. Older people. Most people eat chicken soup- a whole chicken, stuffed with rice and a date, and boiled in soup stock with green onions. We are in the chicken soup days of summer.

I walk up to my office in the morning, and run into one of the dudes working on the washroom reconstruction. He is wearing short shorts. And shorter than short, he has rolled the sides up into the waistband to make them into briefs. "Hmm?" I say, more to myself than to him.

He smiles and starts to sing.

Most of the workers are quiet and reserved, taciturn even, apart from the jackhammering. Singing and assing about is uncommon.

I see him several times throughout the day-- telling stories to the other workers; standing in front of the mirror posing; standing in front of the other workers posing; drinking beer. "An odd fellow." I say, more to myself than to him.

The next day, he isn't there.