Just a post of my thoughts. I am really starting to believe that a Black Angel came down upon Chicago on the night of October 28th in the year 1985 and decided to curse one newborn baby of all the land with a lifelong streak of bad luck. So, I’m on the lakefront with me lady, who decided not to get her drink on after I bought three bottles of Palo Viejo, and we’re having a deep discussion involving the choice of death when one has to decide between fire, water, or free fall and batch of clouds crowded overhead. Beautiful clouds as full as cotton candy. I just wanted to fly off of the tallest tower and land on top of these clouds and I swear they would’ve carried me like a crowd at a Method Man concert.
The night gets as old as time and we decide to leave, but not before I rise to teeter the ledge where Chicago ends and Lake Michigan begins. As I stand to catch this magnificent view, I leave my cell phone on the concrete where I was sitting. Needless to say, after cuddling on the lakefront with a little liquor in the system, one is thinking about getting out of there fast. That’s exactly what we did, before I could even think about my mistake. I drive all the way home, which is a 30 minute ride with no traffic. I realize that I came home with no phone, so what do I do? I travel all the way back to the lakefront of course. When I get there, no phone. Of course. This is the Northside so there are good chances that someone who could care less about a busted phone would pick it up and return it to a poor, idiotic soul like myself. That was not the case. Turns out a homeless person with little sense left is the rescuer of my phone in distress and all he can offer me is a demented laugh. That’s just how it goes.