Several months ago — okay, maybe it was more than a year ago — time is but a blur these days — I was at an estate sale in Raleigh and wandered into the backyard, where I spotted this neglected creature, just standing by the fence, looking as if he had been there for years. He — or it — stands about four feet tall and is apparently a chef, sporting black-and-white checked pants, a blue apron, and even wearing wire-rimmed glasses, all (except the glasses) nicely crafted from fiberglass, carrying a tray that once held — what? I’m not sure why he has Shrek-like green skin, unless the sun discolored him that way.
The figure looks vaguely familiar, so I’m convinced that years ago he stood outside a Memphis restaurant. Some type of pizza parlor, perhaps?
Does anybody remember where this fellow originally came from?
And in case you’re wondering: No, I didn’t buy it, though the fellow would have looked quite fine on the front lawn of the Lauderdale Mansion, perhaps collecting mail or — even better — donations from visitors.
