The first time we spotted that guy in the chicken suit on 17th Street, it was August. It was a diabolical way to lure customers, really, by exploiting this desperate soul in such heat. Stay strong, Chicken Dude. Some time later, he was minus the chicken head, leaning against the Harbor Shops water fountain, smoking. A pack of scruffy, mean-looking kids ridiculed him with cruel laughter. But Chicken Dude just smiled, Zen-like, enjoying the last few drags of his cigarette and the cool air on his sweaty brow. More recently, he has taken his smoke breaks at his work station — the sidewalk in front of the Embassy Suites — and in that mode, he does not wave. Lately, the chicken head has come off as often as on; perhaps the stress of the job has made him a chain smoker. And there's no trace of that Zen spirit at the fountain months ago. His expression is twisted with disgust and despair. Don't begrudge him; he's entitled to every bit of it, poor fellow. Violent and ingenious methods to avenge his humiliation have certainly occupied those smoke breaks. In one possible scenario, the Chicken Dude, in full costume, takes offense to a remark by his boss and throttles him, in full view of the Chicken Grill surveillance cameras. By the time he's out of jail, the Chicken Dude has become a YouTube celebrity and a hero to recession-ravaged Americans. Police would find the chicken suit, still reeking of sweat, on the shoulder of some road, and the Chicken Dude would be free at last.