Paranoid about your crap?

By the time I finally remembered how to find this blog, and found a way to reset the forgotten password, I realized that it has been 13.5 months since my last post.  I could have said, "about a year", but 13.5 months is a better read.  And this point, many of you may not remember that I turn on the UBER app at times, hoping for extra fun money and a good story.  Well I got both a few days ago.

I was motivated by Deanna, although based on her heavy Eastern European accent, I will guess her real mane to be Dvyntra, or some other name with few vowels.  Thank you Ellis Island.  We need you back.

Dvyntra is worthy of a post, because Dvyntra managed to have me return to her house two times before we were able to begin our trek to the city.  Her semi-neglected home was in a very nice neighborhood in a very nice suburb.  My first sight of her was witnessing her fight with the several locks on her front door.  Watching her reminded me of watching a character on a sitcom locking or unlocking the seven locks on a typical New York City apartment.  Switch locks, dead bolts, chains.... you get the picture.

Our first return to the house was after about a mile of progress.  "Mr. Man, could we go back please.  I think I left off something."  By the time the u-turn was complete, I realized she left something on...  and it was the curling iron.  I get it.  I would turn back too.  This time I got to watch her fight to UNLOCK the many locks, only to be followed by the relocking ritual.

Take two:  We had just driven to the same spot we made it before, when I heard from the back seat.  "I am sorry.  Mr. Sir, I did not set the alarm."  THE ALARM?  This is NOT the house a burgler would choose.  And if a Dvyntra can barely manage to get in the house with keys, a thief does not stand a chance.

It is here I have to confess my love of garage sales and Estate sales.  Estate sales are garage sales where the children of recently deceased parents unload their crap without having to move stuff out of the house.  Most Estate sales are in homes that have not had new carpet, window treatments, nor updated paint in about twenty years.  That is my way of saying the homes often smell of ben-gay, must, and moth balls.  YES, you can often find some pretty cool stuff in the sales, but it is usually overpriced.

Back to Dvyntra.  I was pretty sure we just fought with several locks and set an alarm for stuff that would have only disappointed a would-be-thief. Especially the large fat televisions that likeley plague the place.  This will be your typical Estate sale.  I am not sure how soon, however, she seemed healthy enough.

The good news is that the 3rd time was a charm.  I-55 flew, and Dvyntra/Deanna made it to North State Street to meet her daughter for dinner.

Welcome Russians !

Today I decided to take a quick look at how many visits to the blog there have been lately.  I did this while watching the Chicago Bears.  I also like having my finger nails pulled out.  But interestingly enough, my blog had 10 views today.  Five of those were from Russia.  Break out the Vodka, because I cannot think of any other cliche's at the moment.

Halloween Day and Annoying Nice People

Halloween Day 2015:

     I learned a new verb today.  A fun Hipster couple was in my Prius discussing how one female friend of theirs believes she was drugged by another distant creepy friend of theirs.  The woman in the car said that her friend was "Bill Cosbyed" by the creep.  I had to chime in and add that I am excited about the new verb.  ( Not excited that Dr. Huxtable had access to drugs. ). She was quick to add that the Creep did not have sex with the female friend.  So I had to correct the terminology and point out the the friend was "Billed" but not quite "Cosbyed.".   Either way, upon further thinking, I realized that months earlier I had inadvertently  "Bill Cosbyed" myself.  It was the second day in a month that I was falling asleep with little control in the matter.  After trying to figure out why this had happened twice to me, I finally checked the label of my Tylenol and saw that it was NIGHTTIME Tylenol.  So I cancelled my doctor appointment.  I was convinced that I was dying.


Jail:

   I picked up two sweet elderly ladies in the Bridgeport Neighborhood.  They were headed to a great diner....  White Palace Grill on Canal Street.   They had both been teachers in the city for much of their lives.  One shared how she created her own free tutoring program for the poorer kids in the area.  She even brought some kids home to cook them a real meal and help them with their schooling.  Nowadays,  she would be arrested for such a thing.  I am glad that "nowadays" is a word.


A Cool Chicago College Gameday Thing

   I am sure Chicago is not unique, but if you went to a Big10 or larger college, you have your own bar in Chicago.  I knew that each Big10 school had claim to a bar.  Several years ago, Court and Ack were in town.  Being Pennsylvanians, we had to visit the Penn State bar for the Penn State vs. Illinois football game.  It was pretty cool to walk in to the sea of white and blue.  Now hold on to your hat...... Penn State beat Illinois that day.  Today, a couple from North Carolina had be bring them to Clark and Fullerton so that they could watch Clemson at the Clemson bar, Lincoln Park Stadium Bar and Grill.   Clemson!!

Nice People are annoying?

    I had another couple from North Carolina along with their New York friend in the car.  While the NC couple went on and on about how nice the people of Chicago were, the New Yorker finally announced how tired he was of having to respond to Chicagoans doing horrible things like:  Saying "bless you" after a sneeze;  Holding the door for you;  Allowing and waving you into traffic; Saying hello.  The poor guy.

Pride

    I drove by Wiener Circle.  They have parking.  I was hungry.  I did not stop for a hot dog.  I am proud of myself.  Master of my domain.

Unhappy Catholics

Unhappy Catholics on 9-23-15

I drove through the far northwest side of Chicago tonight, known as the Belmont-Cragin area.  The ride brought me down Austin Avenue, which I will call Catholic Church row.  If you are not aware, Chicago has a massive Catholic population and history.  ( no pun intended).   My only reason formwriting about it is to share my realization that Catholic Church names are not all that inviting; Blessed Church of Dead Saints,  Our Lady of Sorrow and Depression, St. Dude of the Mourning Mothers,  Holy Church of Guilt and Loathing.  Shame On You Church of the Holy Spirit.  You get it.

More Racism on 10-5-15

It is bad enough when a grown white guy talks like a moron, but it is worse ( or actually funny ) when a grown Filipino guy speaks "douche".  Even better is when the guy is in your back seat using a cell phone.  You picture it in your head; an asian guy named Bill speaking with no accent at all:

     "Dude, what is the Dillio?"   "No way, that place is like boss."  "Will there be any bitches there?"  "Dude, that is dope as heyell."  "Well the 4-1-1 on that sounds dope" ( no as hell on that one ) "Oh man, well I will see you in 20 so we can get our drink on bro."

Following this music to my ears, Bill and I discussed the three most important components of a good relationship.  It was like he flipped off the "moron" switch as if a forty-something year old white guy would not understand him. 

Nectarine Amy and Gunshots

These next several stories took place during just the few drives between 8/16/15 and 8/26/15.

I will start with Lance the cook. While waiting in a Walgreens parking lot for my ride, I watched a guy picking up used cigarette. He disappeared from sight, and without fail, asked if I was the Uber guyupon his return.   He apologize for disappearing and informed me that he  "had to pee over there."  He gestured to the short bushes in the middle of the parking lot.  He smelled of cigarettes. Used cigarettes to be more accurate.   He is also the cook in an unnamed establishment (pub) in Westchester, IL. 

This next story can fall under the WHY I UBER category.  I picked a couple up with one tiny piece of luggage at an upscale hotel in the west suburbs. They said they were headed to a park in Chicago, but not sure where. They asked that I just head "that way" while they searched for a public pool to explore.  They just wanted to swim in a pool. I informed them that there really aren't public pools for people to just show up at in Chicago. Apparantly they travel often, and like to find pools.  Kind of a sicko pool fetish.  (not really, I just wanted to type that ).  So I mentioned the small beach near Adler Planetarium and the suggestion as a go.  While sitting in typical crappy traffic on I-290 we discussed Chicago baseball.  How odd that Chicago tourists had more of an interest in the White Sox than the Cubs.  "Are either team in town?"   Why YES, the Cubs were about to throw the first pitch at Sox Park ( aka Comiskey, aka US Cellular Field, aka The Cell ).   I gotta love their change of plans.  Twenty minutes later I was about to drop them several blocks from the park so that they could scalp a few tickets, when we realized their one piece of luggage would prevent them entry.  "Get back in the car" I offered.  While off the clock, I took them to  a friend's two-flat apartment building, hid their luggage in the back yard, and walked them through the signature Chicago neighborhood alley back to 35th street.  I'll never know if they scored tickets.   I'll also never know if their luggage was stolen.  Good people!!

August 26. Without question, the winner of today's  HOLY CRAP AWARD was Grant.  He enjoyed Uber stories, and was quick to share his own insane story.  First he assured me that we were headed to his house, and that it was in a safe neighborhood.  He said it in that "I tell people I live in a safe place even though it is not a safe place" kind of way.  He explained that a recent Uber driver picked him up in a large extended-cab pick-up truck.  Odd.  He then asked if I had heard about the Uber driver who shot someone?  I had heard the quick news bite, but did not hear nor read any details.  I think this poor guy is wondering if I might off him later, but he is again quick to explain that this Uber shooter was the good guy.  Back in April, minutes after the black pick-up drops of Grant in his safe neighborhood, the Uber driver happened upon some gang activity and lively shooting.  The licensed to conceal and carry driver went ahead and shot one of the gang bangers.  Grant had no idea this happened until the morning, when his phone was full of messages from Uber wanting to interview him about the mental state of his Uber driver.  I have to admit, my blood was pumping faster and faster as the story unfolded.  This was NOT a boring ride.  In fact, instead of thinking about boring Uber riders, I was feeling like a boring Uber Driver!  I needed to step it up.  I needed to drop off Grant and quickly find someone to assault.  I am competitive!  Soon after I picked up a nice couple and their puppy.  I did not assault them.  Nor the puppy.

http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/breaking/ct-uber-driver-shoots-gunman-met-0420-20150419-story.html

Quick aside:   Have you ever found yourself driving while a bit too tired?  I decided to quit one night after sitting at a stop sign, waiting for it to turn green. 

August 27.  I decided to turn on the Uber App on my way home from work.  Sure enough I got a hit which brought me to a strip mall on 87th Street.  Ann and her one piece of luggage needed to get to Midway Airport in time for her to get some "Pot Belly" and make her flight.  Before I even said hello she says "wait til you hear what a day I have had."  She did not dissapoint;

4:30 AM.  Ann is awake in her downtown apartment, ready to venture to Midway for her 6:30 AM flight to Tampa.  She would be gone several days, so she cleared the kitchen and ate the last of the nectarines.

9:00 AM.  Alamo Rental Car informs her that she cannot rent a car for her drive to Sarasota with her EXPIRED Illinois Driver's License.

9:30 AM.  The phone calls to the Illinois DMV fail to produce a temporary certificate despite some heavy tears.

10:00 AM.  Amy will NOT see her friend in Sarasota, but the tears score a free flight home from Southwest Airlines back to Chicago.  She did not even have to ask.  Yay Southwest!!

1:00 PM.  Amy arrives at the nearest DMV via cab.  She had to guide the cab driver using her own GPS as he could not find 87th and Harlem !!!!

4:30 PM.  A nice Uber guy named Gary takes Ann and her updated license BACK to Midway Airport so that she can restart her visit.  This must be some friend she is visiting!

And all I am really thinking now is, mmmmmmm, Pot Belly.

Credit Cards Welcomed and 16-Inch Softball

Bambi. My phone alerted me to pick up a woman ( I assumed ) named Bambi. I think she got off of work from the night before, if you know what I mean. Not conventionally attractive. That being said, she was not unconventionally attractive either.  Someone got ripped off.

I like that Ubering takes me to new places, which means close to unique  restaurants.  It is almost a good excuse  to drive. If I find myself hungry, which is every few minutes, I can hop on my Around Me app and see what restaurants are around me.  The TV Food Maps app can also direct me to joints featured on the various food channel shows.  Today it was a hotdog at Henry's near Cicero, Illinios. Al Capone!!  If you notice below, credit cards are welcome. But not Jews.  OK, kidding about the Jews thing.

I also passed the Chicago 16-Inch Softball Hall of Fame building in Oak Park on Harrison Street. Who knew?  I do remember living in Pennsylvania ( Media ) and getting to listen to my P.E. teacher introduce us to the sport "poplular in Chicago."  It is real, beacause it has a website: http://16inchsoftballhof.com/

Speaking of restaurants and sports, my last ride brought me to the Bridgeport neighborhood, where the White Sox play. Hungry enough,  I stopped at a typical Maxwell Street Polish joint where you order on the street and eat at the metal counter outside if you so wish. The older gentleman next to me said "blewchkle",  which must have meant "salt" as he passed me the salt.  Then he said "blewchle",  which must have meant "ketsup."   I wish I could have taken a  picture as he set his teeth on the metal counter and enjoyed his meal next to me.  Nice fella. 

Dust buggars. Yes, I said dust buggars....

How could I forget one of the best stories from Friday night?  My last ride were three guys that had spent the day in the extreme heat at Lollapalooza.  Half the reason I drove that night was to make $$ off of the music fest.  These guys each wanted to rally, and continue their night out.  What I knew that the shotgun passenger did not, was that his two buddies were already falling asleep in my backseats.  He just kept droning on and on.  "Dudes,  do you have crazy dust buggars from today?".    He asked and commented about this all while cleaning out his nose.  With his fingers.  He was not shy about digging in while I drove the Kennedy Expressway at 55 MPH.   He at least had the decency of clearing his fingers of dust by putting his hand out of the car window.  Finally the friend behind him realized what was being said and done and subsequently yelled, "Dude, your dust buggars are hitting me in the face back here!"   Have YOU ever tossed a gum wrapper or cigarette ash out of your car window?  It usually ends up in the backseat.