Retraction
Remember all that nice stuff I said a few posts back about college kids, about them being not all bad?
Forget all that.
A drunken pile of idiocy is what I pushed through just to get to my car to go home after a long night at work.
Arriving on the second floor of the ramp in which I was parked, I literally found myself in the midst of a fistfight, and as the participants fled at the sight of the City Ramp Truck zooming up, I had to step over a PUDDLE of blood to get to my car. Somebody's shirt had been torn off their body, and a couple of empty liquor bottles clinked, rolling down the ramp, hastily discarded.
The ensuing JAM OF HONKING IDIOT TRAFFIC (ninety-nine percent Jeeps with Illinois plates) crawled at an break-neck 6 inches per minute toward the SINGLE F-ING GATE THE CITY SEEMS TO THINK IS ADEQUATE TO KEEP OPEN AT THAT HOUR ON A BUSY FRIDAY NIGHT BEFORE A HOME GAME. As I finally moved within SIGHT of the gate, I could see sloppy hands extend from Jeep after Jeep, strewing crumpled bills and countless coins the entire distance from car to attendant's window. Vigorous group horn-honking throughout the entire ten-minute ordeal lent a festive quality.
When I finally get up to the attendant, I hand her my ticket and the usual $6, and she tells me it's actually $6.60. So while digging into my pocket for another dollar bill, I snap something about being forced to pay MORE to wait with all these assholes, and how delighted this all makes me. Gate up, clutch out, speeding the hell out of THERE.
Weaving through the human asteroid field that downtown streets become after bars close topped off my evening in lovely fashion.
I did not spot the cross-country team members anywhere in this crowd, so they are still all right by me.
The rest of them can choke on their own vomit for all I care.
Forget all that.
A drunken pile of idiocy is what I pushed through just to get to my car to go home after a long night at work.
Arriving on the second floor of the ramp in which I was parked, I literally found myself in the midst of a fistfight, and as the participants fled at the sight of the City Ramp Truck zooming up, I had to step over a PUDDLE of blood to get to my car. Somebody's shirt had been torn off their body, and a couple of empty liquor bottles clinked, rolling down the ramp, hastily discarded.
The ensuing JAM OF HONKING IDIOT TRAFFIC (ninety-nine percent Jeeps with Illinois plates) crawled at an break-neck 6 inches per minute toward the SINGLE F-ING GATE THE CITY SEEMS TO THINK IS ADEQUATE TO KEEP OPEN AT THAT HOUR ON A BUSY FRIDAY NIGHT BEFORE A HOME GAME. As I finally moved within SIGHT of the gate, I could see sloppy hands extend from Jeep after Jeep, strewing crumpled bills and countless coins the entire distance from car to attendant's window. Vigorous group horn-honking throughout the entire ten-minute ordeal lent a festive quality.
When I finally get up to the attendant, I hand her my ticket and the usual $6, and she tells me it's actually $6.60. So while digging into my pocket for another dollar bill, I snap something about being forced to pay MORE to wait with all these assholes, and how delighted this all makes me. Gate up, clutch out, speeding the hell out of THERE.
Weaving through the human asteroid field that downtown streets become after bars close topped off my evening in lovely fashion.
I did not spot the cross-country team members anywhere in this crowd, so they are still all right by me.
The rest of them can choke on their own vomit for all I care.
posted by Jeremy Smith at 12:34 AM
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