Catch Up

A lot has happened since I last set fingers to keys, so let's not waste any time on pleasantries and get right to it. Shall we?

Whistlestop
I returned to Chicago about two weeks ago for the Chicago Pride Parade. After visiting with my niece (and by default my sister and brother-in-law) on Saturday, I headed downtown to my friend Stacey's "cute" apartment. Anyone who has ever looked for an apartment knows that "cute" is code for small - very small. After she cleaned up the apartment a bit, we headed out to see "Anyone Can Whistle" (an early musical by Stephen Sondheim) directed by an acquaintance of mine followed by drinking at a local bar. This was not our original plan, which called for going directly to a bar without passing go, collecting $200 or stopping in a theatre, but our friend John Bliss called and was able to arrange a couple of free tickets. Stacey hadn't been to see a show in a while and I'm a huge Sondheim fan, so off we went. After the show and two bars, we went back to Stacey's and crashed.

Gay Pride Parade
Attending the annual Gay Pride parade, which is always the last Sunday in June, has become a tradition among my friends, several of whom, as it turns out, happen to be gay. Sorry, but there will be no long description of the twinks, lesbians, trolls, bull-dykes, leather men, sugar-daddies with their boy toys or preoperative transexual lesbians that were on display. There will be, however, a short digression on the benefits of mixing vodka and Gatorade.

Vodka and Gatorade are the perfect compliments to one another. Vodka, like all alcohol if ingested to excess, will lead to drunkenness, the saying stupid things, and the possibility of hitting on a preoperative transexual lesbian. It will also lead to that ugly feeling the next day know as "The Hangover". While I am generally able to avoid hangovers, simply because I understand what my limit is and switch to water before I get too drunk, there have been times that I have not heeded my body's advice and continued on drinking. One of the hallmarks of a hangover is dehydration and that's where the Gatorade comes in. One of Gatorade's taglines is "Nobody does hydration better" So, theoretically, as you are dehydrating yourself with the vodka you are concurrently rehydrating yourself with the Gatorade, thereby alleviating (or at least reducing) the hangover. Now, I haven't conducted a scientific study on this, but I think the theory is sound. More research will need to be done. Any volunteers?

Back on the main topic...After a short, post-parade recovery period back at Stacey's apartment, we hit the streets in search of additional alcohol, specifically in my case - Corona. Five of us started out originally, but we ran into a couple of friends along the way. About all that I have to say is that we drank excessively, visited several gay bars and I even got out on the floor and danced. All this and not once did I get hit on. Bitches!

Oh, the pain, the pain.
Most of Monday morning was lost to the recovery effort from the night before. We mostly laid around watching various scenes from Kill Bill: Vol. 1. Eventually, I was able to meander back to my car and drive to my parent's house and spend some more time with Natalie.

Speaking of pain, I suppose that now would be a good time to describe two incidents relating to my car, specifically to my back bumper. The first starts about three miles from the exit for my parent's house. I'm nearing the end of a 6 hour drive when a car comes flying up behind me and starts riding my ass. Now, I'm in the middle lane with cars on both sides and another car no more than 50' in front of me, so it's not as if I'm holding up traffic. Does this mean anything to the idiot behind me? No, in fact, it means that he should start flashing his brights. I'm quickly approaching my exit, so spotting an opening, I move over to the right hand lane. Thank God I won't have to deal with that asshole anymore. Oops, spoke too soon. When next I look in my rearview mirror there he is again. Fine. As my uncle used to say while teaching me to drive a stick-shift, "whatever is going on behind you is behind you" or some such stuff. Anyway, as I take the exit off the tollway I can't help but notice that this guy is still riding my ass. As I approach the automated toll booth, I simultaneously start slowing down and looking for 30¢. Suddenly, I lurch forward as this nitwit bumps into me. I pull over to assess the damage to my car (some scraped paint)and the other driver (doesn't carry any insurance) and decide that both I and my car will survive, but not until I have a few cross words with Mario Andretti about his driving habits. With him properly abashed, I get back into my car, pay the toll and proceed onwards towards my parent's. And isn't just my luck, this nimrod ends up going the same way that I am. Only this time, he keeps about 400 yards behind me.

Story Two begins when I am trying to find parking near my friend Stacey's apartment. Parking in her area is no easy task. It is a horrible confluence of issues - too many apartmentt buildings, too many "No Parking" zones and fire hydrants located every 30 feet. Eventually, I see a woman approaching her vehicle making every indication that she is just about to leave. I pull over to the side as much as possible and turn my turn-signal on. Ten minutes later, the tick-tick of the turn-signal is starting to get to me as the woman makes yet another dash inside for some forgotten thing or another, though this time she gave me that universal shrug and smile that says "I'm sorry, but this is the last trip, I promise...really." So there I am sitting waiting for this woman to do or get whatever it is she forgot this time when I notice in my rearview mirror two bicyclists that have obviously had one (or two or ten) too many coming around the corner. The first manages to avoid the huge maroon object that is my car. However, the other, busily trying to finish yet another beer, is not quite so lucky...and neither is my back bumper. With a thump down he goes, in a tangle of metal, flesh and black plastic bag. He lays there, sprawled spread-eagle in a pool of spilt beer right in the middle of the road for a few moments before I decide to get out and see if my car is okay (and,incidentally make sure he isn't dead). Gradually, he stumbles his way to his feet and with barely a coherent word gathers the black plastic bag, which I now realize contains several more canned beverages of the alcoholic variety, and starts to wheel his bike away. His equally non-sober friend, possibly sensing that this incident may not be the last before reaching their final destination, urges him to hand over the plastic bag. No way that is going to happen...if there is one thing that is truly universal, it's the fact that there is just no reasoning with someone who is 30 sheets to the wind. Apparently, crashing into my car had caused his front wheel and handle bars to become un-aligned. I watched as this fool attempted to realign the two by slamming his tire against the tire of a car up the road. This set the bag in his hand to swinging, eventually leading to it slamming into the bike and bursting the cans open. If I hadn't of been seated in my car, I would have fallen to the ground in hysterical laughter. Needless to say, there were many profanities said and an almost equal number of recriminations by the friend for losing the last of their beer.

FIN
That's it for now. There are a couple more stories that need to be told both about Pride Weekend and the Fourth of July weekend, but I've been working on this post for over 2 hours so I think that I'll save them for another day.

Oh, one last thing. July 5th was Musings of a Mis-Spent Adulthood's 6 month birthday. In those 6 months, I've posted 22 entries (not including this one) and written nearly 15,000 words. I've learned recently that several people, besides my friend Kevin D, actually do read my rambling stories. However, he is the only one that ever writes comments. Come on, start a trend, a post a comment today. What is there to be afraid of? It's fun, easy and I promise not to make fun of you in any future posts.