a woman came up to us and asked to sit at our table, first thing this morning.
Before even introducing herself, she told us that she had met up with friends last night, and next thing she knew, she woke up to find herself still in last night clothes, with all the lights on.
And was relieved to find her purse and credit cards.
I would have settled for a "Good morning, I'm ______"
Found out the conference is moving to L.A. next year. won't be as crazy, that's for sure.
And I doubt there will be gumbo.
Hoping to go out sans vendor tonite, and enjoy the quarter with the knowledge that we don't have to be up early tomorrow.
Cafe Du Monde for coffee, maybe a spot of shopping, and then a cab to the airport shortly after noon.
nice.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
New Orleans, LA, 3/31 - 4/3 part one
part one he says, assuming there will be a part two. Pretty optimistic for a guy who's been catching up on work, and studying, and attending a conference, all at the same time.
In the very neighborhood, in the very city, that is LEAST designed for that kind of nose-to-the-grindstone work ethic.
I've a vendor who's attending this conference as well. He's a very nice guy, one with whom, as it turns out, has familial roots in the same sad city in OH that I do. A huge "No shit?!?!?" moment we shared over dinner.
He latched on to my boss and I this morning, and then wanted to buy us lunch. Only we picked possibly the only restaurant in N.O. that's cash only. So he had to borrow money from us to pay for our lunch.
He paid us back when we met him in the lobby to go out to dinner.
Crescent City BrewHouse. limited menu, but you can't choose wrong, cuz everything on there is good. Five kinds of beer, brewed right on the premises, and a location right across the street from the old Jax beer building, and the riverwalk. Fantastic seared Tuna salad and a bowl of gumbo. I was a happy man.
Weather was too nice, after dinner, to NOT take advantage of, three guys from the north like we are. So I played tour guide a bit, we walked off dinner, and our new friend started joking about getting thirsty, about the time we wandered past Bourbon street.
to back track a few hours, after meeting him for the first time, he mentioned his church in the second sentence of our acquaintance. Grammatically, the previous sentence is probably a mess, but I assume it conveys what it needs to.
"Oh, geez, another person I know from small town central PA, who's a little too into their church for my comfort zone."
So, after three tall beers at dinner, and a stroll around the quarter, he comes upon groups of revelers on Bourbon street, and starts making the comments.
Drunk-ish guy sees women type comments.
Seemed kinda stereotypical, really. Religious wholesome guy, turning lecherous after a couple of beers....
There are a lot of gent. clubs on Bourbon street, and each of them had a couple of the dancers hanging out in the doorways of the clubs, while guys stand in the middle of the street handing out discount admission tickets, drink coupons, etc.
Last trip down, one of them told me that if I came into his club, it would change my life.
I was.... dubious.
Anyhow, my boss and I kept walking( been there, done that) as these guys came up to us with their coupons and their vague promises of... I'm not sure what exactly.
Our new friend kept stopping, pointing to the young women in the doorways, making vaguely inappropriate comments.
Finally, he turned to us and said:
"You guys have amazing willpower!"
Not really. We just didn't want to be his excuse to misbehave; and didn't want to spend our limited funds on frustrating ourselves. Perhaps it was 'cuz we were still sober...
We kept walking right back to the hotel lobby, even though another beer and a bathroom sounded pretty good.
"so, you guys calling it a night?" our friend asked us.
as we were standing in the hotel lobby, after passing every excuse to NOT call it a night that you can imagine.
"Uh, yup."
We say our goodbyes, and get on an elevator.
"He's gonna be miserable tomorrow." we laugh to one another, with a certain air of superiority.
In the very neighborhood, in the very city, that is LEAST designed for that kind of nose-to-the-grindstone work ethic.
I've a vendor who's attending this conference as well. He's a very nice guy, one with whom, as it turns out, has familial roots in the same sad city in OH that I do. A huge "No shit?!?!?" moment we shared over dinner.
He latched on to my boss and I this morning, and then wanted to buy us lunch. Only we picked possibly the only restaurant in N.O. that's cash only. So he had to borrow money from us to pay for our lunch.
He paid us back when we met him in the lobby to go out to dinner.
Crescent City BrewHouse. limited menu, but you can't choose wrong, cuz everything on there is good. Five kinds of beer, brewed right on the premises, and a location right across the street from the old Jax beer building, and the riverwalk. Fantastic seared Tuna salad and a bowl of gumbo. I was a happy man.
Weather was too nice, after dinner, to NOT take advantage of, three guys from the north like we are. So I played tour guide a bit, we walked off dinner, and our new friend started joking about getting thirsty, about the time we wandered past Bourbon street.
to back track a few hours, after meeting him for the first time, he mentioned his church in the second sentence of our acquaintance. Grammatically, the previous sentence is probably a mess, but I assume it conveys what it needs to.
"Oh, geez, another person I know from small town central PA, who's a little too into their church for my comfort zone."
So, after three tall beers at dinner, and a stroll around the quarter, he comes upon groups of revelers on Bourbon street, and starts making the comments.
Drunk-ish guy sees women type comments.
Seemed kinda stereotypical, really. Religious wholesome guy, turning lecherous after a couple of beers....
There are a lot of gent. clubs on Bourbon street, and each of them had a couple of the dancers hanging out in the doorways of the clubs, while guys stand in the middle of the street handing out discount admission tickets, drink coupons, etc.
Last trip down, one of them told me that if I came into his club, it would change my life.
I was.... dubious.
Anyhow, my boss and I kept walking( been there, done that) as these guys came up to us with their coupons and their vague promises of... I'm not sure what exactly.
Our new friend kept stopping, pointing to the young women in the doorways, making vaguely inappropriate comments.
Finally, he turned to us and said:
"You guys have amazing willpower!"
Not really. We just didn't want to be his excuse to misbehave; and didn't want to spend our limited funds on frustrating ourselves. Perhaps it was 'cuz we were still sober...
We kept walking right back to the hotel lobby, even though another beer and a bathroom sounded pretty good.
"so, you guys calling it a night?" our friend asked us.
as we were standing in the hotel lobby, after passing every excuse to NOT call it a night that you can imagine.
"Uh, yup."
We say our goodbyes, and get on an elevator.
"He's gonna be miserable tomorrow." we laugh to one another, with a certain air of superiority.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Where not to buy chinese food, follow up to my previous post, and thoughts about Archie
Ordered take out Chinese food in Sturgis, MI yesterday.
"why in the hell....?" you start to ask
Mom lives there, she's recuperating from surgery, so we drove over for the afternoon yesterday to help her out a bit.
As I'm eating my pale-yellow chicken fried rice, and realizing that they prepared it with the aid of a bag of frozen peas and carrots, I have to stress - don't get take out chinese food in Sturgis, MI.
Seriously, a bag of frozen veggies? Who does that?
I guess I should feel lucky there weren't any lima beans.
Fried Rice should be brown, if you were not aware.
And, you know.... fried.
My wife's Kung Pao shrimp, by the way - a festive shade of pink.
There were over 60 arrests at the South Side irish parade last weekend. Including the breaking up of a riot at a park near the parade grounds.
(see my previous post)
The riot that prompted my call to 911.
Seems they only sent two officers to the scene, to restore order. The first one passed us as we left the area. He was about sixty.
If I were him, upon getting out of my car and seeing what he was up against, I would have just drawn my weapon and shot the nearest rioter in the leg.
How better to get everyone's attention, and to let them know you're not messing around?
I'm just kidding, of course.
maybe.
There are petitions being circulated to rescind the parade permit for next year, due to the over-abundance of intoxicated minors. Folks from the neighborhoods along the route are concerned that it's no longer a family-friendly event.
Um..... Duh?
It's rumoured that majority of the guilty parties were part of tour bus groups that came in from other areas for the parade.
Not sure if this is legit, or if it's simply easier to believe this than to believe that these were all kids from the neighborhood.
"Hey, I think that's my babysitter over there, squatting a couple of yards away from all those little kids..."
I won't cry if the permit's rescinded for a couple years. I'd like to be able to take my kid and her friends to the parade, without fear of fights and exposing them to people who are...exposing themselves.
If it takes a couple years off to get this sorted out - so be it.
Had to put my dog to sleep last friday. It was about as fun as it sounds, maybe less so.
We brought Archie home almost exactly fourteen years ago.
He was a bright, fun and faithful companion.
His desire to be close to us was touching, and cost us more than a few bucks in replacement window screens, door trims and other things over the years.
He was great to camp with, and always came back to us when hiking, eventually.
He was a joy to watch in the water, was crazy-good with a frisbee, and loved us unconditionally.
We thought we were going to lose him 5 or so years ago, when he hurt his back so bad he could barely walk, but we got him past that. I keep finding myself checking to make sure I'm not going to step on him as I get out of bed in the morning. Almost told him to be a good boy yesterday, when we were leaving the house, before catching myself.
We hope that he's happy wherever he's at now, and that there are many lakes, lots of mud, and many, many frisbees.
"why in the hell....?" you start to ask
Mom lives there, she's recuperating from surgery, so we drove over for the afternoon yesterday to help her out a bit.
As I'm eating my pale-yellow chicken fried rice, and realizing that they prepared it with the aid of a bag of frozen peas and carrots, I have to stress - don't get take out chinese food in Sturgis, MI.
Seriously, a bag of frozen veggies? Who does that?
I guess I should feel lucky there weren't any lima beans.
Fried Rice should be brown, if you were not aware.
And, you know.... fried.
My wife's Kung Pao shrimp, by the way - a festive shade of pink.
There were over 60 arrests at the South Side irish parade last weekend. Including the breaking up of a riot at a park near the parade grounds.
(see my previous post)
The riot that prompted my call to 911.
Seems they only sent two officers to the scene, to restore order. The first one passed us as we left the area. He was about sixty.
If I were him, upon getting out of my car and seeing what he was up against, I would have just drawn my weapon and shot the nearest rioter in the leg.
How better to get everyone's attention, and to let them know you're not messing around?
I'm just kidding, of course.
maybe.
There are petitions being circulated to rescind the parade permit for next year, due to the over-abundance of intoxicated minors. Folks from the neighborhoods along the route are concerned that it's no longer a family-friendly event.
Um..... Duh?
It's rumoured that majority of the guilty parties were part of tour bus groups that came in from other areas for the parade.
Not sure if this is legit, or if it's simply easier to believe this than to believe that these were all kids from the neighborhood.
"Hey, I think that's my babysitter over there, squatting a couple of yards away from all those little kids..."
I won't cry if the permit's rescinded for a couple years. I'd like to be able to take my kid and her friends to the parade, without fear of fights and exposing them to people who are...exposing themselves.
If it takes a couple years off to get this sorted out - so be it.
Had to put my dog to sleep last friday. It was about as fun as it sounds, maybe less so.
We brought Archie home almost exactly fourteen years ago.
He was a bright, fun and faithful companion.
His desire to be close to us was touching, and cost us more than a few bucks in replacement window screens, door trims and other things over the years.
He was great to camp with, and always came back to us when hiking, eventually.
He was a joy to watch in the water, was crazy-good with a frisbee, and loved us unconditionally.
We thought we were going to lose him 5 or so years ago, when he hurt his back so bad he could barely walk, but we got him past that. I keep finding myself checking to make sure I'm not going to step on him as I get out of bed in the morning. Almost told him to be a good boy yesterday, when we were leaving the house, before catching myself.
We hope that he's happy wherever he's at now, and that there are many lakes, lots of mud, and many, many frisbees.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
We're the southside irish, let's get p*ssed!
Today's the annual South Side Irish parade.
The one day a year when parents don't seem to care where their kids are, public intoxication is not punishable, and I'll witness some high school kid relieving himself in the alley behind my house at some point.
Need to admit it up front - I'm old.
I'm old, I have a toddler, and I did not grow up here.
So I'm probably not the right person to ask about the parade. Those who've grown up with it, will tell you how much fun it is. The pre-parties, the kids all having a good time, etc.
I just know that it's hundreds of thousands of people, majority of whom are drunk by 11am on a sunday, milling about, getting drunker, in tight confined places.
If I was 19 again, and didn't have to see my parents at some point in the day, I'd look forward to the parade, for months on end.
But we go every couple of years, living within walking distance of the parade route. This year the weather was great, and my daughter's old enough to appreciate the fire trucks and marching bands and such, so we were looking forward to it.
And when we finally waded through the beer scented mass of humanity, met up with some folks we knew, and staked out our tiny little piece of sidewalk, it was fun for a bit. Then it was time to go. everyone stopped to let us through, everyone on the sidewalk were nice, being physically AT the actual parade was fun.
We cut down an alley, to avoid the largest part of the crowd, past rows of minors, relieving themselves. Then down another alley, where we watched one high school girl stumble up to another, and exuberantly greet her with " You f*cking whore!" as she gave her friend a hug.
Out of the alley, down the street 1/2 a block to the big park. Fiona was excited about the park.
There's a great playground at the north end of this pleasant, one square block large park.
We made our way across the playing fields to the playground, ignored the casualties passed out on the grass nearby as their friends continued to party, and were really enjoying ourselves, probably for a half hour or so, until the screaming started.
We looked up, and one large older guy, mid-20's probably, was screaming at 3 highschool age guys, who wanted nothing more but to get back to their friends, the large group that had set up shop near the playground.
Apparently, from what I could discern from the yelling, one of them said something snide as they passed this guy, and his friends, one of whom had dropped her pants and was squatting by a tree. nice.
"keep stepping motherf*ckers" this guy was yelling.
"better yet, start running!"
"we'll keep stepping" one of the younger guys said back.
"but we're not running."
They made it back to their friends, probably 2 dozen kids in all, at least 12 of which were guys.
a minute later, the violent guy started toward the crowd of high school kids, with two other guys in tow. We were already getting ready to leave, thankfully.
"It's going bad fast" I tell my wife, who had already started to put the baby in the stroller.
"we'll put her in in a minute. we gotta go right now."
We walk away, and I'm on the phone to the police, as I walk backwards, watching the fight start.
I'm surprised that other parents continue to sit and watch their kids play on the playground, while things are going south behind them. All the sudden, they all start herding their kids, picking them up, calling them away from the playground, leaving.
I see a body fly out from the crowd, and know that the fight had officially started.
Police cars pass us as we approach the end of the block. half of Chicago's police force is within a mile of the park today, so not surprised by the quick response.
My daughter's oblivious of course, happily munching pretzels as we put as much space between us and the park as possible.
We pass many house parties on the way home, everyone's having a great time. We see no fewer than 4 young guys p-ing in alleys in the 7 block walk back to our house.
We're very glad to be home. And oddly enough, look at the parade as a good day, overall.
Great weather, Fiona enjoyed herself, got some quality playground time in on the way home, until things went bad.
I expect we'll continue to take Fiona to this parade as long as we remain here. She'll be old enough to ask to go, by next year.
She'll be mad, 13 years from now, when we tell her she's not allowed to go to the parade all day without adult supervision. I expect it won't be the first time she'll be upset with us.
The one day a year when parents don't seem to care where their kids are, public intoxication is not punishable, and I'll witness some high school kid relieving himself in the alley behind my house at some point.
Need to admit it up front - I'm old.
I'm old, I have a toddler, and I did not grow up here.
So I'm probably not the right person to ask about the parade. Those who've grown up with it, will tell you how much fun it is. The pre-parties, the kids all having a good time, etc.
I just know that it's hundreds of thousands of people, majority of whom are drunk by 11am on a sunday, milling about, getting drunker, in tight confined places.
If I was 19 again, and didn't have to see my parents at some point in the day, I'd look forward to the parade, for months on end.
But we go every couple of years, living within walking distance of the parade route. This year the weather was great, and my daughter's old enough to appreciate the fire trucks and marching bands and such, so we were looking forward to it.
And when we finally waded through the beer scented mass of humanity, met up with some folks we knew, and staked out our tiny little piece of sidewalk, it was fun for a bit. Then it was time to go. everyone stopped to let us through, everyone on the sidewalk were nice, being physically AT the actual parade was fun.
We cut down an alley, to avoid the largest part of the crowd, past rows of minors, relieving themselves. Then down another alley, where we watched one high school girl stumble up to another, and exuberantly greet her with " You f*cking whore!" as she gave her friend a hug.
Out of the alley, down the street 1/2 a block to the big park. Fiona was excited about the park.
There's a great playground at the north end of this pleasant, one square block large park.
We made our way across the playing fields to the playground, ignored the casualties passed out on the grass nearby as their friends continued to party, and were really enjoying ourselves, probably for a half hour or so, until the screaming started.
We looked up, and one large older guy, mid-20's probably, was screaming at 3 highschool age guys, who wanted nothing more but to get back to their friends, the large group that had set up shop near the playground.
Apparently, from what I could discern from the yelling, one of them said something snide as they passed this guy, and his friends, one of whom had dropped her pants and was squatting by a tree. nice.
"keep stepping motherf*ckers" this guy was yelling.
"better yet, start running!"
"we'll keep stepping" one of the younger guys said back.
"but we're not running."
They made it back to their friends, probably 2 dozen kids in all, at least 12 of which were guys.
a minute later, the violent guy started toward the crowd of high school kids, with two other guys in tow. We were already getting ready to leave, thankfully.
"It's going bad fast" I tell my wife, who had already started to put the baby in the stroller.
"we'll put her in in a minute. we gotta go right now."
We walk away, and I'm on the phone to the police, as I walk backwards, watching the fight start.
I'm surprised that other parents continue to sit and watch their kids play on the playground, while things are going south behind them. All the sudden, they all start herding their kids, picking them up, calling them away from the playground, leaving.
I see a body fly out from the crowd, and know that the fight had officially started.
Police cars pass us as we approach the end of the block. half of Chicago's police force is within a mile of the park today, so not surprised by the quick response.
My daughter's oblivious of course, happily munching pretzels as we put as much space between us and the park as possible.
We pass many house parties on the way home, everyone's having a great time. We see no fewer than 4 young guys p-ing in alleys in the 7 block walk back to our house.
We're very glad to be home. And oddly enough, look at the parade as a good day, overall.
Great weather, Fiona enjoyed herself, got some quality playground time in on the way home, until things went bad.
I expect we'll continue to take Fiona to this parade as long as we remain here. She'll be old enough to ask to go, by next year.
She'll be mad, 13 years from now, when we tell her she's not allowed to go to the parade all day without adult supervision. I expect it won't be the first time she'll be upset with us.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Public transportation is hazardous to my health - Part 2
As it was not a terrible evening, weather-wise, I got off at the early stop yesterday afternoon, for the big walk to my train station.
Let me sidetrack a bit, before I get too far into the story.
Folks who ride the el trains regularly will likely tell you that they're so used to the mildly crazy, the homeless, the psychologically or pharmaceutically impaired, that they don't really pay attention anymore. Garden variety crazy doesn't even really rate notice. So when someone DOES catch your attention, it's cuz something's seriously off about them....
So when I stepped off the el train yesterday afternoon, and was immediately drawn toward such a person, I knew he was.... special.
I noticed him right away. Walking back and forth, looking around, stopping, changing direction, etc. He was wearing a parka and a ski hat, and thick black rimmed sunglasses with yellow lenses. Bono sunglasses, if you will. He also hadn't shaved in 3-4 days.
And he was carrying a longish cloth bag with a large lump in the bottom of it, obviously heavy.
First thought was that he was simply lost, took the wrong stairs to the wrong platform, didn't know which train to get on - something like that. Quickly realized it was something more.
He ran past me while taking the escalator to the next level. Then paused, looked around, did the back and forth, waited by the elevators for a second...
Then followed me through the turnstiles, and out into the government building that's attached to the El train stop.
The Thompson Center is gorgeous. Basically a big, tall, round building, all of glass. you can stand in the center of the basement, and look straight up a couple dozen stories, and it's dazzling. If you recall seeing the movie Running Scared with Billy Crystal and Gregory Hines, the climax was filmed there....
So it's in the direction I need to go, and it's visually appealing, which is why I head out that way.
And I'm usually the only one doing so, as everyone else is headed somewhere else, and the building's businesses have shut down by 5:45.
So it was me and the strange man alone in the basement of the Thompson Center, save for a small cleaning crew at the other end of the building. He passes me, then stops at the bottom of the escalator, and acts like he's nervous about stepping onto it. He allows me to go first, then immediately hops on behind me. I move quickly up the escalator, he follows. I get outside, he's right behind me. I start walking west toward my street, and looking for a hole in the traffic so I can cross. He's still behind me. I stop and turn around to face him, when he's about 10 feet away from me. He turns around and starts walking the other way, and I cross the street in front of traffic. When I turn around to see if he's still there, he's standing by a trash can, looking around. He then very carefully places his bag into the trash can, and proceeds to walk away in the opposite direction, fairly quickly.
This is so very NOT right....
I call 911, give them the rundown of his appearance and behaviour. They want great detail on his clothes, etc, I want to get to the part of the story where he places a suspicious bag in a trash can out in front of a government building....
Finally finish the call, and haul *ss away from there, to catch my train, and to put distance between myself and him, and the mysterious bag in the trash can.
I look over my shoulder all the way to my train station...
The Thompson Center was still standing this morning, so I guess everything turned out ok.
Let me sidetrack a bit, before I get too far into the story.
Folks who ride the el trains regularly will likely tell you that they're so used to the mildly crazy, the homeless, the psychologically or pharmaceutically impaired, that they don't really pay attention anymore. Garden variety crazy doesn't even really rate notice. So when someone DOES catch your attention, it's cuz something's seriously off about them....
So when I stepped off the el train yesterday afternoon, and was immediately drawn toward such a person, I knew he was.... special.
I noticed him right away. Walking back and forth, looking around, stopping, changing direction, etc. He was wearing a parka and a ski hat, and thick black rimmed sunglasses with yellow lenses. Bono sunglasses, if you will. He also hadn't shaved in 3-4 days.
And he was carrying a longish cloth bag with a large lump in the bottom of it, obviously heavy.
First thought was that he was simply lost, took the wrong stairs to the wrong platform, didn't know which train to get on - something like that. Quickly realized it was something more.
He ran past me while taking the escalator to the next level. Then paused, looked around, did the back and forth, waited by the elevators for a second...
Then followed me through the turnstiles, and out into the government building that's attached to the El train stop.
The Thompson Center is gorgeous. Basically a big, tall, round building, all of glass. you can stand in the center of the basement, and look straight up a couple dozen stories, and it's dazzling. If you recall seeing the movie Running Scared with Billy Crystal and Gregory Hines, the climax was filmed there....
So it's in the direction I need to go, and it's visually appealing, which is why I head out that way.
And I'm usually the only one doing so, as everyone else is headed somewhere else, and the building's businesses have shut down by 5:45.
So it was me and the strange man alone in the basement of the Thompson Center, save for a small cleaning crew at the other end of the building. He passes me, then stops at the bottom of the escalator, and acts like he's nervous about stepping onto it. He allows me to go first, then immediately hops on behind me. I move quickly up the escalator, he follows. I get outside, he's right behind me. I start walking west toward my street, and looking for a hole in the traffic so I can cross. He's still behind me. I stop and turn around to face him, when he's about 10 feet away from me. He turns around and starts walking the other way, and I cross the street in front of traffic. When I turn around to see if he's still there, he's standing by a trash can, looking around. He then very carefully places his bag into the trash can, and proceeds to walk away in the opposite direction, fairly quickly.
This is so very NOT right....
I call 911, give them the rundown of his appearance and behaviour. They want great detail on his clothes, etc, I want to get to the part of the story where he places a suspicious bag in a trash can out in front of a government building....
Finally finish the call, and haul *ss away from there, to catch my train, and to put distance between myself and him, and the mysterious bag in the trash can.
I look over my shoulder all the way to my train station...
The Thompson Center was still standing this morning, so I guess everything turned out ok.
Public transportation is hazardous to my health - Part One
public transportation is harmful to my health. Part one
Mentioned in a previous post that I like to walk 15 minutes out my way when it's nice out, and utilise an El train stop much further way from my train station than others.
Last week, I did just this. Waited for my brother in law to arrive at the train station (cathes the train after mine) and then we walk the 10-15 minutes to his office, which is across the street from an el train stop.
Got on the el train, sat down, and immediately realized that there was a lot of stank in the car. Looked around, saw too v. possible sources for the stank, and got back up and walked back to the train door.
The plan was to get off at the next stop, walk 20 steps to the next closest car, and get back on.
A good plan, one I've utilised on countless occasions.
Except this time, I was the only one getting off the train, and noone was on the platform to get on.
So the doors started shutting far quicker than normal.
So that I had to break into a run to make the next train car door.
And it shut as I got to it. So, like you do with an elevator, I stuck my hand in to stop the doors from sliding shut, so I could get on.
Except they didn't stop.
They shut on my arm.
I holler loudly, trying to get the driver's attention, or at least someone on the car. They looked up at me, did nothing to help, and looked back down.
As I was trying to pull my arm out of the train door before the train took off.
I managed to do this just as the train started moving. However, the strap from my laptop bag was still stuck in the door. Which means my work laptop was still stuck in the door.
Unacceptable.
I could care less about the laptop, but knew that my "sorry, the el train ate my laptop" story would not go well for me at work.
So I started tugging on the strap, as I walked along the slowly moving train.
And continued to pull on it, as I began trotting alongside the train as it gained speed.
And finally got it out, as I was running along side the now fast moving train.
"mother f*ck!!!" echoed the length of the empty el train platform.
I walked over to a bench, and sat down, working on bringing my heart rate and breathing back under control.
Turns out I had plenty of time to work on this, as the next train was very late.
Of course.
So, to recap - almost died trying to escape El train stank, then almost lost my work laptop, and ended up late for work.
Whoo hoo!!!!!!
Mentioned in a previous post that I like to walk 15 minutes out my way when it's nice out, and utilise an El train stop much further way from my train station than others.
Last week, I did just this. Waited for my brother in law to arrive at the train station (cathes the train after mine) and then we walk the 10-15 minutes to his office, which is across the street from an el train stop.
Got on the el train, sat down, and immediately realized that there was a lot of stank in the car. Looked around, saw too v. possible sources for the stank, and got back up and walked back to the train door.
The plan was to get off at the next stop, walk 20 steps to the next closest car, and get back on.
A good plan, one I've utilised on countless occasions.
Except this time, I was the only one getting off the train, and noone was on the platform to get on.
So the doors started shutting far quicker than normal.
So that I had to break into a run to make the next train car door.
And it shut as I got to it. So, like you do with an elevator, I stuck my hand in to stop the doors from sliding shut, so I could get on.
Except they didn't stop.
They shut on my arm.
I holler loudly, trying to get the driver's attention, or at least someone on the car. They looked up at me, did nothing to help, and looked back down.
As I was trying to pull my arm out of the train door before the train took off.
I managed to do this just as the train started moving. However, the strap from my laptop bag was still stuck in the door. Which means my work laptop was still stuck in the door.
Unacceptable.
I could care less about the laptop, but knew that my "sorry, the el train ate my laptop" story would not go well for me at work.
So I started tugging on the strap, as I walked along the slowly moving train.
And continued to pull on it, as I began trotting alongside the train as it gained speed.
And finally got it out, as I was running along side the now fast moving train.
"mother f*ck!!!" echoed the length of the empty el train platform.
I walked over to a bench, and sat down, working on bringing my heart rate and breathing back under control.
Turns out I had plenty of time to work on this, as the next train was very late.
Of course.
So, to recap - almost died trying to escape El train stank, then almost lost my work laptop, and ended up late for work.
Whoo hoo!!!!!!
Sunday, March 1, 2009
a fool in the rain
You know it's been winter for far too long, when you get excited because it's 40 degrees outside.
But excited I've been, embracing the 50 degree day on Wednesday, and the rainy 40 degree day yesterday, to the extent that I get off the el train several stops early, just so I can take a 15 minute walk through downtown Chicago, to my commuter train station.
Yes. I said "40 and raining! whoo hoo! I'm walkin!"
cuz, to reference led zepplin, i'm a just a fool in the rain....
Anyhow, part of the fun of the walk is to watch all the other folks around you. heading to dinner, to shows, leaving work late, flagging taxis....
It's high entertainment, the moment to moment hum of a big city. I've been doing this for years, and never tire of it.
Something was a bit off yesterday. Noticed it for the first time as a couple walked toward me. He was a few inches taller than her, and was moving at a good clip. She was literally trotting to keep up with him, while smiling and talking to him. They were obviously a couple, yet he's oblivious to the fact that he's making her run, just so she can walk next to him.
a block later, while waiting for my turn to cross a busy intersection, an older couple walks past me. He's got a small cheap umbrella out, and he's holding it directly over his own head. His wife's struggling to keep up, while walking sideways and leaning in, so that aprox. ½ of her head is under the edge of his umbrella. You could easily see how wet the rest of her was, which tells me they'd been walking like this for a bit.
Dudes. Where's the love?
But excited I've been, embracing the 50 degree day on Wednesday, and the rainy 40 degree day yesterday, to the extent that I get off the el train several stops early, just so I can take a 15 minute walk through downtown Chicago, to my commuter train station.
Yes. I said "40 and raining! whoo hoo! I'm walkin!"
cuz, to reference led zepplin, i'm a just a fool in the rain....
Anyhow, part of the fun of the walk is to watch all the other folks around you. heading to dinner, to shows, leaving work late, flagging taxis....
It's high entertainment, the moment to moment hum of a big city. I've been doing this for years, and never tire of it.
Something was a bit off yesterday. Noticed it for the first time as a couple walked toward me. He was a few inches taller than her, and was moving at a good clip. She was literally trotting to keep up with him, while smiling and talking to him. They were obviously a couple, yet he's oblivious to the fact that he's making her run, just so she can walk next to him.
a block later, while waiting for my turn to cross a busy intersection, an older couple walks past me. He's got a small cheap umbrella out, and he's holding it directly over his own head. His wife's struggling to keep up, while walking sideways and leaning in, so that aprox. ½ of her head is under the edge of his umbrella. You could easily see how wet the rest of her was, which tells me they'd been walking like this for a bit.
Dudes. Where's the love?
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