Last night I met Allen the Real Estate Agent (whom I had originally met at The Redhead Piano Bar when I was here last month for my interview and when I was SLIGHTLY—just a little bit—loaded, so I didn't exactly remember much about him) at Joe's Sports Bar in Chicago to see a cover band. At The Redhead he gave me his card and said he'd help me find an apartment, if he could, which he couldn't, but we kept in touch anyway. He seemed friendly and considerate via e-mail, so I agreed to go out with him for what I considered to be a non-date. He offered to pick me up at my apartment, but I said no, I'd take the el, so he couldn't kidnap me and wouldn't know where I live in case he wanted to kidnap me later (because that's where my mind goes). So I met him there and he was sort of boring and said things like "anyhoo" and "Okay, let's bounce" [meaning, for those of you who aren't black, "Let's go"] at midnight when I told him I wanted to leave. The place was really crowded and I don't like to have to birth my way through drunk people with full cups of beer when I go to the restroom, which, as you all know, is often. Plus the music wasn't that great. So anyhoo, he offered to give me a ride back, and I was all, "No, I'm an independent woman," and walked to the el stop where these two CTA women said, "No north-bound trains, young lady" to which I said, "WHAT!" They gave me vague directions to a different train line, so I walked and walked and didn't find it and started to feel nervous about wandering around a strange city alone at night. So I turned around and walked back to the el station and said, "Yeah, I can't find it" and we argued for a few minutes about how awful their directions were, until the woman said, "FINE. Here's what you can do: get on the south-bound train, get off at Lake, go up and across the thing and take the elevator up to the brown line." I didn't understand those directions either, but I got on the train anyway. This is really long, so I'll just get to the point. It took me two hours to get home (at 2am), and when I finally got back on the red line, I was worried I wouldn't make it on time for the last purple line train to Evanston. But I made it, and as I waited thirty minutes for the purple, I talked to two very nice engineering students from Missouri. We rode together to Evanston, and I wished I had gone out with them instead.
