Thrills and spills in Chicago

This weekend I braved the drive from Wisconsin to Chicago to visit some of my old college chums. Besides the Mars Cheese Castle*(one of my favorite Wisconsin landmarks) on 43 south, the drive was fairly uneventful. Upon arrival some gals and I headed over to my friend "Jazzy A's" place where the kegs were ever flowing, the music was thumping and the underagers were secretly smoking weed in one of the apartment bedrooms.

While no one is sure how three 18-year-olds from Columbia snuck into the party, we all know how they made their exit......by starting a huge fist fight that left one of the hosts with a black eye and one of the underagers sans one of his earrings.

The cops soon arrived, and I, an innocent bystander found myself face to face with one of them when he began knocking on a screen door I had just closed. When I innocently told him I didn't live there and that I didn't know who was having the party he sternly asked me to stop trying to make an ass out of him. I told him, NO I was NOT trying to make an ass out of him and thanked him for his hard work, dedicated service and ability to maintain calm and perspective......he then walked away.

The next morning I woke up slowly, once again promising never to drink again....and then settling on a compromise to just NOT predrink before I drink again. After a long day in the trenches(shopping) I returned to my host's abode where I relaxed as the old Disney classic Bambi played on t.v. Having not seen the picture for 20-odd years, I was surprised to see how little personality the beloved fawn possessed. Isn't he supposed to be Prince of the Forrest-I hope Prince William does a better job if there is a forrest fire! Luckily not all of the anthropomorphic forest citizens had so little to say; and although he spoke with a lisp, and seemed to have a strange fixation with Bambi's ass, at least Thumper could hold a conversation. In real time, soon after Bambi, Thumper and the ever-shy and cleverly-named "Flower" hit puberty a torrential downpour hit the city(Chicago, not the hundred-acre wood). And I was suddenly struck with this peculiar desire to hibernate.

The next morning I headed home. Older, wiser and perhaps a little gassy.

Once back in my little neighborhood, I tried to busy myself with worthwhile tasks...like reorganizing the yogurts in my fridge and dusting my matchbook collection. At one point, I went outside my apartment to read and enjoy a Tangerine popsicle. Rico Suave was working the store nearby and when my popsicle imploded on my hand due to the uncharacteristic Wisconsin heat I ran over to see if he might have a napkin. He did, and I noticed he was reading Chicken Soup for the Woman's Soul.......(Later I asked a friend if they thought this might be a sign of homosexual tendencies, and she purported that no gay man she has ever known would read that book. Nor would most heterosexual women for that matter.) I complimented Rico on his turquoise ring, and he commented that it was similar to the one I am always wearing. I jokingly asked him if he had been searching through my jewelry box(smooth I know), he replied that he thought we have a lot in common......taste in literature notwithstanding.

Now I am at work trying to be productive........

*The Mars Cheese Castle is a magical roadside establishment whose exterior is modeled after a grand castle, while the interior boasts a grand selection of the finest international cheeses coupled with a small village inhabited by friendly forest creatures. Be sure to look for the large neon sign on your way into Wisconsin-it is definitely something to see.
Note: While I have never actually pulled off the highway to go INTO the Cheese Castle, this is my best guest at what wonders are sure to lie beyond its austere castle-front.