The first day of my trip to Chicago was full of wacky things, so I thought I could pull off a running diary of events for the trip...but then Tuesday and Wednesday were dull. So, watch as this post fails to burn out and succeeds in fading away:
MONDAY, APRIL 25
2 male flight attendants on the departure flight out of KCI. What percentage of male flight attendants are gay? 80%? 90%?
Why do we have so many problems getting seated on airplanes? How can this take so long? Ditto deboarding.
The person that attempted the crossword puzzle did so half-heartedly and incorrectly. How could you not know that "Former Genesis Drummer" was PHILCOLLINS?!
The female flight attendant has a normal-sized body but a huge, huge ass - she's bumped my arm/shoulder with it every time she's walked by.
Lots of turbulence upon decent into O'Hare. You know it's a pretty rough when you think, "This is probably what it would feel like if I tried to fly the plane."
People are taking pictures on Michigan Avenue. Tulips are blooming and they need pictures of themselves next to said tulips. I'm guilty of taking stupid pictures, too, but I find these "me next to a small flower garden" especially worthless - no chance they will be funny, cute, or frame-worthy in any way.
Did you know there are 2 Omni hotels in downtown Chicago? I'm at the wrong one. This is the one for Oprah's important guests - mine is a half block west and 12 blocks north of here. It's called the Omni Ambassador East, despite the "half block west" part.
"Ambassador" is an Olde English term for "quaint because it's tiny". (Later that night, the TV would inform me that La Quinta is "Spanish for a good night's sleep", which goes against what a comedian once told Phil. He said it was Spanish for "next to Denny's.")
Lipstick on one of my water glasses. Room musty. Otherwise it's OK.
Turned on Sportscenter - someone has accused Lenny Dykstra of using steroids, so former teammate and current ESPN personality John Kruk is being interviewed. Referring to the accuser, he says, "If this guy walked into the room and introduced himself, I still wouldn't know who he was." No doubt.
Saw two interesting things on the walk to dinner - one was a rental joint called Video Schmideo. I was so caught up thinking about the naming process for that place that I walked right by my restaurant. I also saw a black man in dreads - all I'm saying is, if you're a twentysomething black male with a squarish head, you might want to think twice about any hair procedure that brings you closer to the Malcolm Jamal Warner look.
I stopped at Walgreens on the way back to the hotel to pick up some breakfast food - you never know with these conferences, sometimes it's muffin mania in the morning and other times it's nothing. I looked at the lackluster selection and decided on some milk and cereal bars. I was surprised to find that the Fruit Loops bars had 10% of my daily saturated fat, while the Frosted Flakes had 13%. Aren't flakes more healthy than loops? My theory: more flakes can be compressed into bar form than loops. More product = more fat. Meanwhile, a gay man in sweatpants is freaking out. "This milk is past the due date! You've got to get it off the shelves before it kills somebody!!"
TUESDAY, APRIL 26
Woke up and ate 2 of the milk & cereal bars. They're OK. Turns out there's muffins a-plenty downstairs. Fuck.
I wanted to eat pizza for lunch, being in the pizza capital and all. The place I picked out was closed for lunch, so I had to grab a sandwich instead. Back at the conference, a dude tells me that he ate some awesome deep dish a few blocks away, but he can't remember the name. Finally, at the cash bar happy hour, he remembers. "It's called Uno," he says confidently. "Oh, thanks buddy," I reply, "but I think I'll go somewhere that doesn't have locations in Los Angeles, O'Hare fucking airport, and my fucking home fucking town."
I take the red line to Addison and walk to the gay district in Halstead - I need to eat before I watch the comedy stylings of Chuckle Sandwich, an improv group I first saw at the D.C. Comedy Fest. After some searching, I find a place that looks local and ends in an "O", so I know it's got to be good.
Personal pizzas are only served during lunch at this restaurant, and I'm eating dinner. I eat half of a deep dish/stuffed pepperoni pizza and have the rest put in a box. I place the box on top of a free newspaper stand under the el. Enjoy, homeless!
Chuckle Sandwich delivers the funny, but the other improv groups are very uneven. I talk to the guys after the show and, despite clearing this up beforehand, they think I am from D.C. and friends with their friend. The truth is I'm from Kansas, saw them and met them in D.C., and I'm friends with a friend of their friend.
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 27
The map says it's 2 miles from the hotel to the blue line. It feels like 20. Arrive at my gate 5 minutes before boarding. Whew.
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