Chicago: A rainy cesspool

Today, I left majestic Chicago. As fortune would have it, I experienced it in its worst possible state: cold, rainy, and dark. However, fun WAS had.

Here's the Wrigley Building. This was home to the famous bubble gum empire. Sadly, the building itself most certainly did NOT taste like bubble gum.


Here's Wrigley Field. Strangely, this place DID taste like bubble gum, and the fat man next to me tried to gnaw his way through his seat. And when I say "fat man," I mean "everybody in the whole fucking town."


Chicago is so windy, it straightened my hair. This had to be documented and never mentioned again.


This is Millenium Park. It's a lot like Central Park, only if it were designed by alien cyborgs who were hellbent on taking over Earth through abstract art and confusion.


Here's me and a giant metal cashew.


Here's an ancient Babylonian torture device used to coerce people into not laughing when they say "Babylonia."


Here's the boat I took for the architecture tour, christened "Chicago's Little Lady." It was named after a whore who was brutally drowned and thrown in the river. She was then boarded and sailed throughout the city by many citizens. This boat is a tribute.


Someone doesn't bother to carry an umbrella. Someone is sorry.


Here's a AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! ARGFHGHGHGHGHHHHHAAAHAHH!


Oh, and gay men love me, apparently. On the rainy architecture tour (which was awesome), a gay Canadian who also didn't bother to bring an umbrella, used his lack of foresight to try to bond with me. I was pleasantly aloof. Then, when I came back to Detroit, I got to the hotel, ran three miles, swam a few laps, and relaxed in the spa. A gentleman promptly joined me in the bubbly bath and sat right next to me. This is a rather large pool of hot, steamy action, so you could imagine my surprise when he chose a seat so close.

HIM: You come in here often?

Did he actually just use the old "come here often" line?

ME: Uh, no this is my first time. In the spa.

Awkward pause.

HIM: It's not that hot.

ME: Nope. Thought it was going to be a lot hotter (WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT???)

He then got out after I propped my head back and pretended to sleep. He hopped in the pool and I decided to get out of the spa and run for my room.

HIM: (from the pool) Have you been in the pool?

ME: Yup. Yes, I have.

I left with my sneakers barely on my feet.

Then, I decided to drive in to Detroit proper to eat at a place called "Floods." It was supposed to be soul food, so, I thought, that would be something pretty unique to the area. I walked in to Floods and glowed like I was made of fucking ivory. I was the only white guy in the place. Despite how confident I've been feeling, there's a difference between being bold and being bludgeoned to death with a karaoke microphone. So, I went down the street and had Greek pizza.

YOU THINK IT ENDS THERE??? FUCK NAW! I managed to drive from Detroit back to my hotel (about twenty miles) at night HAVING FORGOTTEN TO PUT MY LIGHTS ON. I really thought they were on. Nope. I can only hope that other drivers thought I was some sort of pilotless robot car. I'll read the paper tomorrow and see if anybody reported it.