I don’t know what kind of financial sewer Illinois has put itself into, but toll roads seem to have been extended out 100 miles from Chicago I wouldn’t have a problem with that if I ever carried cash on me. Naturally in the 21st century the toll attendants don’t take debit cards. Instead I get this scarlett letter saying I didn’t pay my toll and that I have 7 days to pay it! I think I collected 3 of those bad boys.
A portent of things to come? God, hope not. 20 miles or so outside of Chicago and the I-88 highway robbery toll road ends and turns into the Eisenhower parking lot. Oh boy. At least I’m not swimming through 100% humidity here in the city. It’s actually quite nice.
Kathy greets me at the house! I’m not there 5 minutes before my mom calls about some concern in Reno. Then my sister calls at the same time. I accidentally hang up on my mom. Chaos ensues! Everybody eventually shows up and it’s story time in the kitchen. I meet my sister’s husband Max. Cool guy. I like that his stories usually end with him driving a plow truck over some motherfucker on the highway or climbing out a car window to read someone the riot act. Ha, good shit. I say let’s get dinner!
An hour later, no one will commit to a restaurant, so we all head to Red Lobster. Ah, Chicago food…
My sister Beth and her husband Max. That’s my twin sister if you must know. We all ate, half of the food was too fucking salty, cost too much, and we had an overly familiar waiter. Oh well. Chain restaurants suck.
Today, I’m off to Target or Sears or somewhere to buy swim trunks and shorts. I’ve been rough on clothes this trip. Popped a button off my shorts, popped a button off a pair of jeans in Colorado. I think someone’s trying to tell me I’m a fat fuck. I don’t like your tone. Don’t you mock me Jesus!!!!