The sensation that has swept across Europe has arrived in St. Pete: the rubber duck. Owned by Daniel Plonsky, The Lucky Duck Shop debuts on Thursday, August 22, at 2626 Central Ave., offering quirky, themed rubber ducks in approximately 170-200 different styles and categories. A grand opening will follow in November.

During my interview with Plonsky, there was a miscommunication. I mistook his phrase “carry ducks” for “Carrie ducks,” as in the cult-classic horror/mystery movie based on Stephen King’s novel. When he explained that I misheard him, he added, “But, yeah, I do carry ‘Carrie ducks’. I have about 15 of them.”

The shop features many horror-themed ducks, which Plonsky describes as “scary but cute,” including characters like The Nun, Hannibal Lecter, and Pennywise the clown from “IT,” among others. And those are just in one category. To reiterate, Plonsky offers around 170-200 styles and categories of ducks, with an estimated total of about 5,000 ducks. The styles and categories include horror, movie stars, animals, workplace, and love ducks, including an extreme version called “naughty ducks.”

What the actual duck?

The fascinating irony is that Plonsky admits, “I was never a huge fan of ducks. But every time I was in Europe, I’d always see a rubber duck shop in each city. And they were always packed… it was so strange to me.” Yet, Daniel found himself collecting ducks from Paris, Germany, and Florence. “I have a gondola duck from Florence,” he says.

Before opening The Lucky Duck Shop, Plonsky owned a CBD shop in Sarasota called “Trusted Wellness,” which sold a few rubber ducks, but nothing on the scale of The Lucky Duck Shop. Each duck at the new shop is imported from manufacturers in Europe, primarily from the UK and Germany. “There’s nothing like that in the US,” he says.

Rubber ducks have experienced a niche resurgence as ornaments on Jeeps, with Jeep owners often decorating their dashboards with these little plastic quackers. What’s curious, though, is that the more I research why rubber ducks are taking Europe by storm—like cute, aristocratic exiles reclaiming their former domains—and the more I try to understand why Jeep owners adorn their dashboards (I assume it might be because some Jeeps have open ceilings, making them essentially mobile bathtubs, though I’m just guessing), the more questions I have, and the more intrigued I become by Plonsky’s duck business.

Check out The Lucky Duck Shop’s website to get a sense of the stock, the rubber flock.