Chicago——Friday
Friday
The ethereal sound of “city” is calling to me. I’ve never lived in a big city…Edmund, Oklahoma…..Pocatello, Idaho….Martinez, Georgia…..Flint, Michigan………But I’ve always have enjoyed the forced socialization that a big city brings. I’ve heard gangsta-ass gay dude talk crazy gay-gangsta stuff on the phone while riding a cramped “El” train to Wrigelyville. Just today my lovely wife and I decided to check out the “lounge” where we would imbibe in a cocktail and perhaps play some pool…7 steps was all it took. Seven steps into a gay-strip club. No warning, just big bald naked dude!
Later we learned that Belmont= Boys town. Wow. But still in a way awesome because that means in a somewhat normal neighborhood, where there is a little rinky-dink “grill” that serves breakfast all day; next-door is entirely too many wieners! Two dudes were walking across the street, they stopped and one dude licked the other’s face! Sweet Chicago, how can you be so cruel. I could live here, and just walk around the random shops and find that “Fuck me, I’m Irish” t-shirt I’ve always needed!
I am enjoying the sound of the I-90 expressway, the chattering of the taxi’s honking and the resounding blare of a fire engine. From someone who never has lived in a big city, this clearly has something to do with alcohol intake or perhaps too much smog. Or the creepy redhead in a kilt on the “El.”
Visually it’s very soft right now. Lots of fog that squanders away the buildings. Seeing lights on above the 9th floor I’m inhabiting makes me wonder “what do these people do?” Not just for a living but with all the other potpourris of life.
Joe pointed out that having kids would be incredulous. And how couldn’t it? The closest daycare to the train would charge a fortune and have thousands of parents wanting their brats to be part of said daycare! Grocery shopping, lugging that shit up 3 flights of stairs, AFTER walking the load of goodies to the train station, through the turn stiles, and waiting on the deck. Then taking the groceries onto the train, through the station, and walking to your house. Imagine that with a 4 year old you picked up from daycare!
Words cannot suffice.
