Sunday, July 24, 2011

When we got back to my parent's house, my dad was outside sitting at the table under an umbrella and reading the paper. A pizza was ordered, and my other sister would pick it up on her way home from work. That all went as planned, and I even got to see my very busy nephew (24 years old and two jobs and enough energy to still have a social life, gods bless him). It was lovely.

At half past midnight I got back out of bed and drove to the airport to pick up my friend A. I have known A since I was fourteen, and we haven't seen each other in several years. She lives in San Diego now, but her mom still lives less than a mile from my parent's house. She was on West Coast time, and so immediately suggested that we go out for a drink. Having already been in bed, I was not in any shape, physically or visually, to be in a bar. A shame, really, because if I'd had the energy I'm sure it would have been amusing. We got together the next day instead, did a bit of shopping, had lunch, and then went to a bar- one that neither of us had been in since we were legal to drink.
We went to her nephew's baseball game after that. He is fourteen and timid and sweet. A's sister was there, sitting amongst the other moms, shouting and carrying on. The coach for the opposing team was saying mean and inappropriate things to his players, and had apparently been doing so the whole time. When we walked up, he was yelling to his shortstop:

"If I wanted a paraplegic out there, I would have got one!"

A and I looked at each other in horror. The man was at least twice the weight of a healthy person his height, and he was spilling over a five-gallon bucket in every direction as he sat menacing his players from the first base line. When they came off the field, he grabbed his pitcher, a baby-faced boy who was maybe twenty pounds overweight, roughly by the arm and told him not to be "So lazy."

"Did he just say lazy?" I remarked, perhaps louder than I had intended. "That guy hasn't seen his dick without a mirror in a decade, and he's calling these kids lazy?!"

A and her sister nearly fell off the bleachers laughing, and then her sister proceeded to go down the line of other mothers and repeat what I had said. Things did not get more polite after that. (And I had only had one beer!)All of this is to say that: A)It's probably a good thing that I don't have children; and B) Sports do not necessarily bring out the best in me.

Later that night A and I went into the city to T's place. T has recently broken up with a girlfriend that he had actually moved in with. His old place was small and cramped and bachelor pad-like. It was fine, but the new one is really, really great. We spent the evening having drinks and swapping stories in his living room. They are the last two in our particular circle of friends to remain single, so I really enjoyed their dating horror stories. Mostly I enjoyed their company, and the all too rare comfort that I take in the presence of people I have known for more than half my life. I do miss Chicago.

Friday i went downtown with my sister J and my parents. We visited Navy Pier, which is not exactly the kind of place I would normally go, and certainly not the kind of place I would recommend to a sane person who was visiting our fair city, but occasionally we like to do touristy things. We went on an architectural tour by river. It was fascinating and fun. Afterward we went for a drink at Jimmy Buff3t's M@rgaritaville, which brought to mind a particular Far Side cartoon. I was uncomfortable and hot, the bar smelled like- well, like every shitty dive bar I've ever worked in smells in the middle of the day, which is to say stale beer and piss. Top that with bartenders in Hawaiian shirts and terrible music blasting from multiple large screen televisions, and you have a good idea of why I might not have chosen the place. Anyway, it was amusing, and I exchanged multiple texts with the b.h. and chalked it up to one of those Life Experiences.
After Navy Pier, we drove over to Little Italy and got a tartufo, which is gelatto dipped in dark chocolate. Fabulous. Then we drove back to the South Side, where I changed clothes, swapped cars, and picked up A in just enough time to race out to my other sister's house to meet a bunch of friends for dinner.
We stopped at Tr@der Joe's for snacks and beer, which was a terrible idea because we were both hungry. Then we got to the house and ordered pizza. We stayed up a lot later than I had imagined I could. A and I spent the night (sans my sister and her husband, who were away at his family reunion in Ohio) and drove back to my folks' house the next day. Saturday we barbecued, and Sunday I flew back.


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