Little star at my feet* like a tumbleweed glyph**. I've been to the original Sears Tower in Homan Square*** and am headed for Hyde Park after a quick stop at The Forum in Bronzeville.**** I want a hot frothy beverage and a book from the Seminary even though I have so much unread at home.***** I find the book and sip a Chai Latte outside of one of my favorite cafes. I make one more stop****** on the way home. Hell is other people.******* I had a neighbor who use to say that (yes, she credited Sartre). She was a massage therapist so her hands must have given her lots of footnotes.
* True foot note (and asterisk from the Greek asteriskos meaning "little star")
** Crossing the Midway yet again
*** Afterwards a woman stumbles up to my car while I'm in the drive-through line for coffee at Mickey Ds on Kedzie. The window is up, music is playing and I am shaking my head NO but she stays & continues to mouth words at me so I turn down the volume and hear her shouting: maxi pads, maxi pads, maxi pads ... I fish out a dollar even while I'm thinking: lady, you are too old to be getting your period. Finally I make it the intercom to give my order and I ask for a Mocha and the disembodied voice asks: What kind of Mocha? Oh please don't do that to me...I want a mocha mocha...there is only one on the menu. I don't have the energy to relay all the variations that the voice wants me to know are available. I drive away.
***** I want to read a novel by Cathleen Schine because I have gotten lost in at least two of her other books and that is what I need.
*******I join a tour of the above family-owned business (since 1883 baby) curious to see the place where architectural plaster mouldings continue to be made for some of our finest buildings and this retiree couple—idiots—keep interrupting with stupid questions (like: How much does that cost????) So I wander ahead.
Hell is...part two: I make it to REI early in the morning for the garage sale. Find nothing, but pick up a new headlamp for those long walks out in the country at night (and for reading). There is a casually dressed, well-groomed man ahead of me at the register with a shopping cart full of camping supplies and jackets. Maybe he woke up at the crack of dawn and decided to take his family camping—but first he would have to go buy everything he needed. I move to get around his cart when another register opens and he looks at me and tells me, as I am going around him, that I can go around him AND he says it as if he is giving me permission, as if he is sitting behind his executive desk in his corner office wearing a three piece suite and allowing someone to enter.