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The Blatherings Of A Blitherer

A Day Out In Chicago


I had to run downtown to pick up Nesko’s check yesterday, so I took the 151 Sheridan bus because it picks up a block away from the apartment and drops off almost directly in front of where I needed to be. I stuck Nick in the sling and off we went! Since it was like 1pm there was hardly anyone on the bus except for old people and students. The handicap priority seating section at the front was pretty full of frail looking elderly folks with canes. At one stop, a woman in a wheelchair was waiting, and just about everyone in that section cleared out as quickly as they could (which was pretty slowly). One old guy who looked to be in his late 70s or so and had a cane and shaky hands put up some seats so she’d have a place to park herself, and sat in the first row of fixed seats. She had some troubles getting on the bus and in place because her chair was manual and the bus aisle is kind of a tight space to work in. But she made it and we were off, and I was all “oh, Chicago, I love you. Chicagoans take care of other people.” I’ve seen this happen before, frequently, with folks helping other folks with strollers or wheely carts or what have you on and off the bus, or helping people dig out their cars after snow storms, or pulling over to help push or jumpstart cars. Chicago’s a big city, but it’s also a pretty friendly city. Which makes the random assholes really stick out.

As we trundled along a lot of people got off the bus. Old dude moved back up to his previous seat, which was the first front-facing handicap priority seat. Because he has a cane, it was easier for him to get up and down, as there were no seats in front of him. See? Anyway, he was on the right side of the bus and nobody at all was sitting on the left side of the handicap accessible seating. A woman in a motorized wheelchair boarded and started yelling at him to get out of her way. He politely put the inward facing seats up for her so she’d have a place to park her chair. He didn’t have to do that. There was much more space on the other side of the bus, and he didn’t owe her anything. He could have let HER put the seats up herself. She continued yelling at him, telling him that she needed to be where he was. He didn’t move, so she BACKED INTO HIM, PINNING HIM TO THE SEAT.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a highly offended voice.

“I TOLE YOU I NEEDED TO BE WHERE YER AT!” she bellowed at him and moved slightly forward so he could get up.

It was hard for him to get up, but he managed it, and even put the seat up for her, his old man hands shaking. She zipped into place and locked her wheels. The bus driver did absolutely NOTHING about the assault that just took place, and we set off. She got off about ten minutes later and old dude moved BACK to his seat of choice. After about fifteen minutes ANOTHER person in a wheelchair got on. Old dude tensed up. The third person in a wheelchair maneuvered his with his mouth. Had one of those special controllers. He was also the most graceful of the three. He ALSO took his place on the left side of the bus, where nobody was sitting. Somebody put the seats up for him because, again, Chicago is pretty awesome.

Nick and I got off the bus and picked up Nesko’s check and some tax forms and then walked to the Ogilvie Train Station, which is in the Citigroup Building, which looks like a waterfall made of glass. I was going to stop by Garret’s Popcorn, but then decided not to because that would just complicate matters, so we walked to the train station. Because I get lost at the drop of a hat I did go slightly out of my way, but I didn’t get LOST lost. It was about a mile walk, much of it under elevated trains that roared by overhead. The noise barely bothered Nick; the sun in his eyes did and he screwed his face up against it. Walking a mile with a baby strapped to my chest with 3 layers of jersey knit fabric made me sweat a fair amount, I’ll admit it. When we got to the train station my feet hurt because I need new shoes, and we trudged inside into the coolth. I took him out of the sling and put my jacket on a table and put him on top of that so he could look at the ceiling and de-sweatify a bit. I bought and ate some shitty bourbon chicken at the food court. In retrospect, I should have gotten a gyros. I bought and drank a bottle of water and a bottle of lemonade. I found a Garret’s Popcorn stand at the train station. BOOYAH! We had an uneventful train trip to Nesko’s office.

On the drive home we encountered a one-two punch of the sun being in Nick’s eyes and him being hungry, so we pulled into a McDonalds to feed him and refresh ourselves. I was still thirsty as all hell, so Nesko got a jumbo McLarge huge soda. There were some old ladies Holding Court and I learned the following:

  • People from the Islands of Greece are totally different from people from the mainlands! They didn’t specify why, so if you know, please tell me!
  • Nesko is totally diabetic because he got THREE REFILLS OF SODA omg! (note: he only got 1 refill and we (I) only drank half of the second refill). Excessive thirst is a sign of diabetes! And too much sugar causes diabetes! It is a one-two punch of irony! He is OBVIOUSLY in his THIRTIES and it is SO SAD that he HAS DIABETES and DOESN’T KNOW IT and is GOING TO DIE. MAYBE HE SHOULD GET THAT LOOKED AT.
  • We are UTTERLY TERRIBLE PARENTS for hauling our baby around in upper 70s degree sunny weather with NO COVER AT ALL on him. NONE. There was NO COVER on that baby we were carrying. HOW SAD. What a POOR BABY.

They were pretty loud with their personal, judgmental observations, unlike the douchebag who sat next to us and Held Forth to his sister about what filthy whores women are!

Did you know that the most people a woman should ever date is two? That’s it! Any more and she’s a HOOOOOOER. And they should never ever ever cheat on a dude because it’s much harder for a dude to be cheated on than a chick. And if a dude cheats on a chick, that chick should just suck it up and deal, because it’s dudely nature to do so, and far too many chicks turn into hard unfeeling bitchez when dudes cheat on them. WHATEVER, BITCHEZ.

He then ran down Shitty Girlfriends He’s Dated.

  • The chick who kissed someone else before they started going out. Sure, she denied it, but he totally knows the dude she kissed and he totally said she did it, so it totally served her right that he told all her friends she was a giant whorebag slut and ruined her reputation and made all her friends hate her. Because she was a giant whorebag slut. Seriously. What kind of girl KISSES a DUDE? She should have held herself forever pure in anticipation of dating HIM! Bitch.
  • The chick who didn’t understand the complicated directions he gave her over the phone. What a moron! Good thing he told all her friends what a complete and utter retard she is and made them all hate her! I mean, if she wanted friends she shouldn’t have dared question him, amirite?
  • The chick who came over to his parents’ house for Christmas and got all upset when he ignored her for half an hour to text other chicks. What a bitch! Good thing he cussed her out and made her cry! Bitchez, gotta put them in their place, amirite? How dare she expect basic human consideration and for her host to act like a host and not ignore her to focus on other people who aren’t even there! She should have made stiff, polite conversation with his parents who she doesn’t know instead!
  • That cunt he dated who farted all the time. Don’t worry. He made sure to tell EVERYONE that she farted constantly and that they were RAUNCHY AS ALL HELL. Bitch should put a cork in it and stop assailing his delicate nose with her bodily functions. Don’t worry. People stopped talking to her for a LONG time after he spoke with them! THAT will show her!

There was also a dude pacing outside the restaurant talking on his cellphone.
“I don’t know what to do. I’m essentially useless without that wand, but I could sell it and buy a lot more wands!”

Oh, fast food restaurants. You expose such a delightful cross section of humanity!

posted under baby, Chicago, cta

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