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Red the Hen carries herself like a chicken whose shit is worth $100.
That's because every Sunday afternoon is Chicken Shit Sunday at Ginny's Little Longhorn Saloon, where chicken bingo contestants bet on where Red's droppings will land. The person who guesses the right square will walk away with $100.
"I try to stay away from Red during the game," said Ginny Kalmbach, owner of the saloon. "She tends to poop when I'm right in front of her."
Chicken bingo is not your grandmother's church-group game. It's only played regularly at one bar in Austin and at a few other honky-tonks nationwide. Originally a rural game, chicken bingo has become a unique part of Austin culture.
Each Sunday, Ginny's hosts three rounds, which last about five minutes each. When the round starts, players line up at the door to take a number and pay a "poultry donation" of $2 per play. Red the Hen is placed on a pool-table-turned-bingo-board, where she pecks away at her food. In order to get her to defecate, someone chosen by Kalmbach spooks Red.
If Red's droppings hit the square with your number, you win the $100 pot. There are 52 squares on Ginny's bingo board, giving players an almost 2-percent chance of winning.
"I won the last time I was here, which was about a month ago," said Karen Partridge, a chicken bingo enthusiast. "I'm using the money to play more chicken bingo."
Ginny's has been hosting Chicken Shit Sundays for three and a half years now. Dale Watson, an Austin honky-tonk musician who now plays at the event almost every Sunday, suggested Kalmbach try the game.
"He'd done one chicken shit game in West Texas, and since no one had played it here in Austin before, we got it going here," Kalmbach said.
Amanda Brewer, a bartender at Ginny's for five years, said that patrons from as far away as Denmark and Sweden have sent pictures of chicken bingo games they've started in their own countries. "Someone tried to get it started up in Chicago," Brewer said.
Chicken bingo is based on the rodeo staple cow-patty bingo, which is the same game except with a cow. This history attracts honky-tonk regulars who, though they may be new to Ginny's, fit in to the scene immediately. Younger attendees - the new country chic - show up in pompadours and all-black clothing, with ornamental facial hair such as huge chops and soul patches. Ginny's is also a biker hangout, especially popular with the Austin motorcycle crew Gunslingers. A poster across from the bathrooms advertises an Oct. 10 casting call for a prequel to "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre," which is recruiting motorcyclists and their bikes.
With the bar's emergency exit door propped open, the music flows to the parking lot where folks sit on tailgates, some smoking, some watching the setting sun. Inside, the bingo game rages on.
A poultry donation
Gambling is illegal in Texas, but there are exceptions. Those exceptions include the Texas Lottery and bingo played for churches or charity. The 76th Legislative Session passed into law the Bingo Enabling Act, which outlines exemptions and licensing for bingo operators. Senior citizens, veterans' associations and medical administrations are all exempt from bingo law.
To charge money and award a winning pot, bingo operators must be licensed or exempt. There's no charge to get a license.
"They just have to let us know they're playing," said Bruce Miner, licensing manager for Texas Charitable Bingo.
Because chicken bingo is not technically bingo, it does not fall under regular licensing laws.
"To play, you give Ginny a poultry donation that goes directly to the chicken," Redd Volkaert, an Austin guitarist said. "If you win, the chicken makes a donation to you of $100, making this all completely legal. What does she need money for? She's a chicken."
Celebrity chicken
Red the Chicken - not the musician Redd Volkaert - is a 2-year-old Rhode Island Red hen. She is Kalmbach's beloved pet. Because of the special bond they share, Kalmbach won't eat the hen's eggs.
"They're a part of her. I couldn't do that," Kalmbach said, petting her cooing hen.
In fact, Red eats the eggs herself. "Red loves for me to break up the eggs for her," Kalmbach said. "She loves the protein." Kalmbach is pretty sure that eating the eggs isn't bad for Red.
Red eats a combination of corn mush, millet grain, bird seed and water. This makes spotting the number she defecated on easier, as the droppings are clumped together and rather large.
"She eats all the time," Kalmbach said. "She still doesn't weigh much, though."
Weighing in at 3 pounds, the hen is small for a Rhode Island Red, a breed that can reach 6 pounds.
The original Chicken Shit Sunday hen was a black-and-white Andalusian named Dewey. She met her unfortunate death two years ago. The cause is still unknown.
"I got a call from my son saying her head and her body weren't in the same place," Kalmbach said. "It looked like she'd stuck her head out of the cage and a dog bit it off.
"I loved that chicken."
When Dewey died, they held a simple ceremony. No words were spoken. Dewey was placed in a box and buried.
Kalmbach has not yet decided what she will do when Red dies, though she does know Red will not be eaten.
Clucking culture
Chicken-centered live entertainment goes beyond the chicken dance and chicken bingo.
Mike the Headless Chicken, who is said to have lived for 18 months after a non-fatal decapitation in March 1947, is still celebrated in his hometown of Fruita, Colo. The two-day festival includes a car show, 5K "Run Like a Headless Chicken" race, golf tournament, eating contest and chicken-dance contest. According to the Web site dedicated to the headless chicken, the ax meant to sever Mike's neck missed his brain stem and jugular vein, allowing him to live on for more than a year. He was fed and given water with an eyedropper inserted into his esophagus via the spot where his head used to be.
Guinness World Records cites Mike as the longest-surviving headless chicken.
Last March, Austin's Movies in the Park series hosted an Easter Chick-Off event at Republic Square Park for the spring season, including a game of chicken bingo to complement the evening's film, "Chicken Run."
Ryan Orendorf, program coordinator for the Austin Parks Foundation, which hosts Movies in the Park, said that the biggest problem they faced was getting the chickens to cooperate. "We had problems getting the chickens to poop, which is an essential part of the game," Orendorf said. "Also, it started getting pretty late, so the chickens just fell asleep."
There are more than 70 breeds of chickens, rated for their specialties in egg production, table quality and showing ability. Mike the Headless Chicken was a Wyandotte Rooster, known to be particularly curvaceous birds. Rhode Island Reds, like Kalmbach's hen, are known for their calm and docile nature.
Red is typical of her breed; she rests, quietly clucking, as Kalmbach pets her. "Every time I come out here she comes on over to the cage door, even if it's the fourth or fifth time that day," Kalmbach said. "There'll be no KFC for this bird."
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