Prank

STORY BY LIZ GENEST SMITH PHOTOS BY SHANE MUTTER

Several months ago, a sweet elderly neighbor was fearful that the disappearance of the whimsical Bigfoot statue from her front yard was indicative of an uptick of Northshore crime. I assured her that, while it’s certainly wrong to steal, rather than malicious criminals, it was probably just swiped by bored, thoughtless teenagers with nothing better to do. Possibly the same ones that once placed our life-sized Halloween skeletons in hilariously unspeakable x-rated positions on the sidewalk in front of our house. We thought it was funny, but nonetheless started zip-tying all of our holiday decorations into place as a precautionary measure. Perhaps she could do the same?

Unmoved by my suggestion, she became increasingly distressed about the questionable choices and poor character of teenagers these days. My misguided attempt to quell her concerns was to admit that my friends and I engaged in equally mischievous hijinks way back in the 80s. Today’s kids, I assured her, are no worse, really. This was clearly neither helpful nor amusing, as she politely but promptly removed herself from the company of a confessed juvenile delinquent. Probably smart.

In addition to reminding myself to think before I speak, I mulled over this encounter, the aforementioned hijinks of yesteryear, and the razor-thin line between prank and crime when Saia’s Super Meat Market in Mandeville became the target of a hooligan heist this past spring. The mom and pop shop has been an institution around here since 1977, renowned for its superior butcher shop, freshly made fried chicken and poboys. But it’s perhaps most famous for its enormous fiberglass cow, perpetually advertising “LARGE SHRIMP POBOY 8.99” on the letterboard sign affixed to its flanks.

It has stood sentry in the parking lot for over 40 years, but in the wee hours of May 25, the stalwart steer vanished from its prominent spot along Florida Street (the section of Highway

190 that traverses Maneville’s commercial corridor) near the intersection with Girod Street, but luckily was found unharmed and resting comfortably on the lakefront several blocks away. The assumption, of course, was that it was an end-of-year school prank, perpetrated by some crafty seniors.

My 79-year-old dad arrived from Florida for a visit that same afternoon, and while scrolling through his phone, he abruptly queried, “What’s this about a stolen cow?”

This was our first indication that this thing was attracting some serious attention, but we had no idea it would soon become an international social media sensation. Neither did Saia’s owner, Alan Tyrone. I got the chance to chat with him a few weeks later to discuss both the theft and the surprising aftermath.

Alan told me how he had arrived at the store early that morning, only to discover his bovine had been burgled. Thankfully, only 30 minutes elapsed between the time he reported it missing and a Mandeville police officer located it on Lakeshore Drive.

Alan admitted, “I was a little miffed at first. I was worried it was out getting shot all up in the woods somewhere. But, they took good care of it and they were prepared,” he said with a chuckle. Adding, “Our trailer had two flats and they filled them up. And it was nice and neat, propped up on cinder blocks when the police found it.”

That very same evening, Jessie Whiteman of Mandeville launched a Facebook group called “Saia’s Cow Sightings,” with just a few memes and the intention of amusing himself and his friends. But it quickly exploded out of the gate. As of this writing, it has nearly 5,000 members and it’s seen a non-stop stampede of photoshopped images of the cow in a mind-boggling array of settings. It’s pictured doing everything from being abducted by UFOs, getting “cowtapulted” by Monty Python and even morphing into the “Moona Lisa.”

“I don’t even really know the guy who runs it at all,” Alan told me. “A mutual friend reached out to see if it was okay with me, and I said sure. I’m a member of the group and I look at it all the time!”

One of his favorites shows police officers standing beside the cow on the lakefront, but the poboy sign has been altered to read, “Free Donuts.”

Alan’s gotten a big kick out of seeing silly images of his cow coming from as far away as Australia, but it’s also significantly boosted business. They ran out of bread that very first day and have been going gangbusters ever since, with poboy sales up by a tidy 25 percent.

But all fun and gains aside, that cow is sort of sacred in these parts. Alan was still just a Saia’s employee when the store’s original owner, Vincent Saia, discovered an ad placed by a Gulf Coast steakhouse chain. They’d recently gone out of business and were looking for new homes for their herd of mascots, and he couldn’t resist.

“Mr. Saia had the foresight, he knew it would be a landmark.”

Like a lot of us, the iconic cow is getting up there in age, and wasn’t really built for travel, in the first place, so it should only be done sparingly and with the utmost care. Within the last couple of years, Alan has agreed to allow it to roll with the Krewe of Eve during Mardi Gras, but that’s handled by the seasoned professionals at Keith’s Towing Service.

Alan is unsure of the exact size and weight of it, but it’s probably about double the height of a full-grown adult and heavy enough to make cow-tipping a decidedly hazardous endeavor. There’s no doubt, things could’ve gone terribly wrong, damaging the beloved beast or worse.

“We could fix the cow,” Alan said in all seriousness. “But someone could’ve gotten badly hurt.”

Besides the physical perils, it’s worth noting that at an estimated value of $20,000-$30,000, theft of the cow puts rustlers way above the $1,000 threshold for a felony-level conviction in the state of Louisiana. So, the uh… steaks are pretty high.

Would-be copy cats should think twice. Alan took ownership of the store 22 years ago, and the cow was stolen for the first and only other time the very next year. So, this is not his first, um… rodeo. Not only is it completely lame and unimaginative to duplicate someone else’s prank, but Saia’s is planning to, yes, beef-up security a bit. Plus, both their surveillance camera and those of neighboring businesses can (and did) see everything.

Alan has graciously chosen not to sic the law on any rascally varmints, thus far, but that’s not to say his patience and generosity know no bounds. There’s certainly an artistic aspect to dreaming up a good stunt, but there’s also the science of both executing it and calculating risk versus reward. Pranksters would be wise to remember: If you choose to mess with the bull, you just might get the horns.

(Note to readers: It may not seem like it, but I tried to keep my cow puns and corny wordplay to a minimum. Some silliness that didn’t make the cut include: milking it, steer clear and the one I loved most, the purloined sirloin. Go ahead and groan. I’ll see myself out to pasture.