Friday, December 26, 2008

Recollecting Nostalgia: Part 2

July 2, 2005

I woke up the warm blankets draped around me, I could taste the rancid tar and booze that coated my mouth from the night before. The first night in Chicago had been a great success and I could not wait to begin its second coming. I peeled my self out of bed and into the shower; the warm sting of the water was needed to pull myself out of an apathetic hangover.

The clock said noon and it was time for my day to begin, I found my cell phone, which at this moment I still had, flipped it open and dialed H. C. Slizzy. Slizzy suggested since it was my first summer here, that we head over to the Taste of Chicago, a sampler of the restaurants that align this great city. While I had heard of it, my excitement was muted due to my hangover that subdued my pangs of hunger. Oh well I thought, a little grease can't hurt anyone.

After a short cab ride, I met Slizzy at a predetermined corner and we entered what in my mind would always be remembered as an American holiday that celebrated gluttony. The smell was intoxicating, pizza, burgers, beer oh my! Tents lined the street with tantalizing delicacies; however, whatever appetite that was initiated by the smells, was easily quelled by the behemoth people devouring 10,000 calories in one sitting. Despite the rather quick upchuck reflex from the utter foolish patrons who should have been spending their day on a stair master rather than eating grease, I did enjoy some of the food and the concept of the day. Slizzy and I found a corner an a grassy knoll where we quietly ate our food and relived last night's episodes.

A few hours later Slizzy and I rolled over to the famed Baroda Medical Conference, where both our parents went to school. The lobby was teaming with Indian doctors and their families, I always on the look out for new tail was disappointed at the selection of daughters that were available. Quickly I spotted my younger cousin with his parents, my parents were not there this weekend so I was now a part of their family for this weekend. Gaymar was standing there back from his freshmen year and Vanderbilt, an escape from the trappings of Terre Haute, Indiana. We completed our ritualistic hand chest bump hellos and caught up on our lives in a few short minutes. Slizzy and I became impatient and were looking to head out of there. I felt that I could not leave my younger cousin there trapped with the parental units in medical lectures that only boring medical students would find entertaining. We scooped him up, headed back to Slizzy's place picking up a nice big case of Miller Light on the way, so we could start playing some drinking games and indoctrinate the young cousin in the ways of the drunkard.

After many hours of playing fuck the dealer, asshole, and good ole chugging contests that Slizzy continued to win, the blur of drinking began to take a hold of me, it was beginning. There was a dinner at the Baroda conference we had to attend, so I quickly hopped in a cab in my stupor and headed home to get pressed and dressed, it was now Slizzy's job to watch over my younger cousin. A few hours later I snuck myself into the Baroda conference dinner seeing as that I was not a paying guest. Gathering a lot of our friends we took a table and began passing around the drinks. Beer turned to wine turned to cocktails turned to shots. What began as a case race of beers now was a gluttony of booze.

Now that I was nice and tipsy the girls seemed beautiful and easily approachable. I began laying down my best game, teasing, working, and winning the number of this girl from the ATL. Ha Ha I thought a little one night action was in the cards for me tonight, holla at your boy.

After a few shots of Patron with an ole college classmate my cousin and I headed over to Amule and Nya's place for Pre-Drinking. My phone attached to my hip at that time, the new number ready to be used. We were hanging out in the apartment when I patted my pockets down, and realized something stark. Where the fuck is my cell phone? No no no no no, my little black book was sitting in a cab heading somewhere away from me. I tore apart my new friends apartment looking through couch cushions etc unable to find the phone, we called my phone to no avail. Dammit, I guess I will have to just drink my self to stupidity and forget about the lost phone and the lost number.

A few hours later and many drinks guzzled, we headed to the Red No Five, 100 Indians in toe, chances of getting in, 0%. Well I guess we will have to find ourselves at Rush and Division again because at least they will let us in...right? As we exited the cabs in front of then bar NY Lounge, I came to another stark realization, where the fuck are my keys? Oh shit...I ran after the first cab I saw flying down Division in a sea of cabs and blur. I passed Beefcake as he laughed hysterically as I passed him by in hysteria. I opened the cab door and quickly realized, this cabbie was not my cab driver. No Keys, No Phone, No Hope.

Welcome to Chicago, we got fun n' games. There I was no way to go home, no way to call home. I turned around and my younger cousin was no where to be found, so I stumbled back to the bar, grabbed a drink and cheered to the fact, I had made some great new memories in my new city.

Se La Vi Chicago, you will be missed.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Message to AOT

Nice post...too bad I have the power to delete. If you want to guest blog, I am more than willing to accommodate, but you must reveal yourself to me and publish through me...not against me. Otherwise your "posts" will be removed.

HOBO

Recollecting Nostalgia: Part 1

Sorry for not posting in a while, I was running around in my new old home in KC where I will be living for the next short while. Since these are my last few posts as a citizen of Chicago, I would like to take you back to the time when it all started. All characters will be given nicknames, but those of you who know them should be able to pick them out. Enjoy

July 1st, 2005

My car was packed to the brim, filled with items that any recent college grad would covet. Ratty old clothes maligned with bar odors, hand full of essential paper needed to begin my first days as a working man, and a back pack full of miscellaneous items thrown together in the last minute.

As I drove up on 90W I saw the bright lights of the city that soon would become my home, I grew anxious and excited, my friend H. C. Slizzy told me to head over to Dearborn and Maple as soon as a packed away my things. Shit....Chicago Traffic, what would soon be the bane of my existence was now slowing me down as I headed towards the infamous Wicker Park.

I parked my car in the back ally, grabbing all the clothes I could, and began doing wind sprints up and down the stairs throwing my clothes in my sister's apartment, just rushing to get going on the night ahead.

After I settled for a moment, clothes strewn across the apartment, I quickly showered, threw on my best clothes, and stood at the corner waiting for a cab to arrive. The bright lights threw me, as I adjusted to the city life, initially I could not tell what was what, and accidentally waived down a cop car seeing only the top lights from a distance and thought it was a cab. I was sorely mistaken, but eventually I found the cab that would start my world wind tour of Chicago.

"Dearborn and Maple," I barked at the indo/paki cab driver not knowing which direction I would be heading. After a short drive I stood in front of a building that I would be spending a lot of my partying days in: 1111 Dearborn. The doorman after a quick phone call upstairs pointed me to the elevator bank, 3007 here I come.

I slammed my fist in the door excited to see my friends, ready to begin the night of debauchery. H. C. Slizzy opened the door the only way he knew how, t-shirt and boxers, followed by the manly slap and hug maneuver. Slizzy gave me the dime store tour of the apartment, the white soft carpet enveloped the floor, as I turned the corner, there was the large black couches, sprawling in front of the view downtown, Sears tower shining in the night light.

After a few moments, his roommate at the time, someone who I had never met came around the corner, after a quick introduction, the man that I would affectionately call Beefcake was now my first new friend in the city.

The freezer was opened, and Slizzy pulled out a ice cold bottle of vodka, it was time for the pre-gaming to begin, ounces of liquor were guzzled, and the world was beginning to seem a blur. Here we go, I thought! Slizzy as usual finally put on some clothes minutes before our feet hit the pavement. "Where are we going," Beefcake queried. "Finn McCools, meet up with the Shah brothers," Slizzy replied.

As we stepped out of 1111 Dearborn the summer air was warm, inviting, and electric. Sounds of party goers could be heard in all directions as we walked passed Viagra Triangle to Division, the sight of many more dangerous rendezvous'. Entering Finn's it did not seem any different than any other sports bar I had ever entered, there sat the brothers, Nya and A-mule. They huddled around what looked at the time a monstrosity of a tower, a tower of golden cooled lightly frothed beer. After ten minutes or so, in strolled the curly haired master, know as Champagne Kanti, he needed no introduction, I had already experienced many a night strolling along the vagrant streets of NYC with him. Thus began my first meeting of the braintrusts, that would guide me in this city. The tower lessened quickly and after an hour or so, all of the beer had been drunk, not a single sip remained.

Slizzy then laid out the rest of our plans, it began and ended in two words, LEG ROOM. Everyone clamoured over the idea, how would we get in, etc. Slizzy confidently remarked, don't worry I got this, and he did. Five Indian males plus a few females walked to the front of the line, Slizzy walked to the front, whispering sweet nothings into the bouncer's ear, and presto we were in.

The lounge was hopping, there was all kinds of talent wandering around the bar, young, old, gorgeous, beautiful, good enough, even wait and see. This was exciting, so many girls, and no idea where to begin. The group stormed the right side of the bar, finding a round table large enough to accommodate us, the waitress grabbed our drink orders and in a few moments was back with a tray filled with drinks. Slizzy and Kanti both were going big, dirty martinis filled the table; I still a young promising rookie stuck with vodka tonic. In the front of the table, Kanti and I stood there chatting, our eyes never leaving the bar area as we checked out all the women that passed. In the back, Slizzy was in rare form, the center of the party, speaking whatever came to his mind, while everyone else sat back and enjoyed listening to his rantings, with boisterous laughter.

In a blur, I caught a glimpse of a beautiful blond haired creature, when I uttered under my breath "Wow." She stopped, whipping her blond hair through the air, and her eyes sultry and fixated on one thing, me. "Wow, huh," she said cocking a sly smile at me. I stood there speechless she had caught me in a moment I was ill prepared for, this would be the moment that defined me, close or go home.

"Ughhh Ughhh," I muttered still trying to find something slick to say, "Yea you caught me, I didn't even mean for you to hear that," I replied like the utter fool, not thinking of anything witty to say, god had given me a gift, and I wasted it away. Se La Vi, after a few minutes of awkward conversation, I gave the gift back to the other males more capable of closing than me at that time. Dammit...I thought, oh well, there are plenty more situations like that coming, if that was the first 12 hours of Chicago, this would be a great place for me.

The night was filled with booze, my eyes growing dim with liquor, last call was announced and we were shuffled out the door. Night one in Chicago was complete, Beefcake and Slizzy headed to subway to pick up late night eats, and I sauntered over to an open cab, told the cab driver
"Division and Wood," and headed back to Wicker Park. The stairs were daunting, but I finally managed to climb my way to the apartment door, I found my key, slid it into the dead bolt, and took a deep breath. This was only the beginning!