Oh, yeah. Some things have changed in Chicago. Used to be that if you stopped your car at a stoplight, somebody would come out, clean your windshield, and hope you'd fling a couple of bucks his way. I guess too many of them got run over doing that, because now I've discovered that if you stop walking, some fucker will come up, start cleaning your shoes before you can say "My kingdom for a Hoveround," and demand eight dollars.
Well, no, I didn't run over the guy. I didn't give him eight bucks, either.
3 comments:
Here's to your time in the Windy City. My step son lives there and is thriving. I'm fearful it's also the home to writer Wayne Sallee. Along with several other writers. I recall one visit to the place when I approached the building that housed the then center of Playboy publishing. I touched the brick of that edifice with quiet respect and religious solemnity.
I actually met Wayne for the first time when we lived in Chicago, not long before we left to move south. He had the misfortune to attend some of our rowdy little DEATHREALM gatherings. How he survived, I'll never know.
This trip, I got a good reminder of why I loved Chicago so much when I lived there. Don't know if I could ever go back permanently (my God, it's expensive!) but I wish we could visit more frequently.
I haven't been to Chi-Town in AGES ... and haven't seen Wayne in almost as long...
I've run into pushy shoe-shiners before...mostly in airports.
D
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