Chicken Ranch: I take the Fifth

If anyone had told me that I'd be working on the opening paragraph for the Chicken Ranch book for more than a month, I'd have said "You're joking!" They probably would've answered, "No, you're joking!" But here were are at version number 5.

It occurred to me that a major element of the Chicken Ranch mystique came from the road trip aspect. It was located in rural Texas, but survived because of a steady stream of patrons from College Station, Austin, Houston and elsewhere. Capturing that heady experience, full of anticipation and mystery might be just the hook I need.

We were somewhere around Ellinger on the edge of Fayette County when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like "I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe you should drive..." And suddenly there was a terrible clucking all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge chickens, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, which was going about a hundred miles an hour with the top down to La Grange. And a voice was screaming: "Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn leghorns?"

As always, this is a work in progress. Feedback is always encouraged. In case you missed 'em, here are my previous installments:
Version 4
Version 3
Version 2
Version 1

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