Last night I was feeling young-- right now I'm feeling old.
It was 5 in the morning when we got to Steak n' Shake, the one in Evanston. At some point in high school, Matsuo, Tiki and I (and maybe Steve Ryan and possibly a few others) got high in the sheds at the neighboring Home Depot in Evanston. Very memorable.
Anyways, my sleep schedule is out of whack, to say the least. Before midnight last night, the only food I could find time to eat was a Jimmy John's sandwich that I managed to eat faster than they had made it and while I was driving back home to get my bike and get to work.
After work, Aaron asked if I wanted to go for a ride. Our bikes were in the basement and it kind of sucks pushing each one up the long plastic ramp and back to ground level, so I told him I could go either way. Somehow it was decided that we'd ride down to Clarke's and grab a cup of soup or something.
Because my mind has been in the gutter for a while now, I decided to re-name last night's soup the Bearded Clam Chowder. Pretty aptly named as it had a funky taste. Later it would come to light that we were going to eat furburgers at 5 in the morning. Gross.
We rode down and it was fun but uneventful. In fact, the only real excitement of the night was when we went to 7-11 so I could redeem my "$1 for a pack of Camels" coupon. Some girl with her loser boyfriend were trying to argue that the picture on the girl's fake ID was, indeed, her. The blue eyes in her photo were covered with brown contacts and she had been drinking so she couldn't take them out. Pretty flimsy story, really. Who would cover up blue eyes in favor of brown? Yeah. I wouldn't be surprised if brown contacts aren't even on the market. So they argued with the 7-11 guy for a while before threatening to call the cops before, finally, leaving.
The guy, who introduced himself to me and Aaron as Rich, wasn't having any of this. He's the kind of guy who would have given the girl her ID back had she been honest enough to admit she'd been had. We told him about the tricks that had gotten us, like how one guy asked me for my sign (I guessed my own, which was the only one I knew wasn't accurate), and we told him to start taping the taken IDs on his wall. It was all quite amusing.
So the night made me young. Getting an hour and a half of sleep is making me feel old. I got home around 6:30 after not paying attention and heading west towards Park Ridge instead of east towards my apartment. I had to be on the train by 9 to meet my mom downtown. Sam Sheppard was speaking at the... Symphony Center (I think it's called). We were 20 or 25 minutes late but the half hour we saw was worthwhile. Except for the end, when he read two of his newer stories. I was easily distracted by all the white-hairs leaving and couldn't follow the story. Well, that or the last two weren't as engaging as the others.
Fuuuuck. It's barely 5 o'clock, the sky is dark, and I sure could go for a full night of sleep. Tomorrow morning is the last of the Humanities Festivities that I told my mom I'd attend-- another 10 in the AM extravaganza. Tonight is looking like a movie and eight hours of sleep. Sure, it's no 12 or 14 hours, but the Bears game is on at noon and I should be back in time.
Oh, one last happening from last night: After joking about it for various reasons, we (being me, Aaron, Eric, and Matt) end up at the Shell on Hollywood. Aaron went in to use the bathroom then came back. Eric went in immediately after to buy twinkies and borrow some tape to fix his bike. While standing in line, a lady comes in and frantically yells about her need to use the bathroom, "right fucking now!" The guy behind the counter can't help her out as there's only one bathroom and someone had just gone in. Eric comes out and tells us about it, pointing to a lady who is now at her car with the front and back of the crotch-area of her pants soaked. I'm still in awe that I was able to bear witness to such high-end entertainment.
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