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Jul. 1st, 2011 05:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cblj_backupWell, that was a thwarted afternoon.
I did not get a book or trousers or barbecue. I did get rubber cement and headphones. Blick sells both things, though the headphones are somewhat novelty. Still, for ten bucks, I now have earbuds that look like tiny salmon maki, which is pretty cool.
The Harold Washington Library never has the books I want, even though it always says it does. It's like a goblin went through the library and removed all the books it knew I would want, without telling anyone. And I didn't get trousers because I have NO TIME for someone who wants to sell me skinny jeans. Also I have either uncovered fashion's ultimate insanity OR the salesman has the worst patter ever, but I decided it was time to leave the store when he tried to sell me "wide leg skinny jeans".
Actually my afternoon was filled with skinny jeans, because after that fiasco I went to Wicker Park, one of the neighborhoods of Chicago, which I am not cool enough to walk around in. I saw more sockless boat shoes and skinny jeans and tattoos in one block of Wicker Park than I've seen in the rest of Chicago all year.
I didn't go to Lillie's Q. I walked past it and decided I didn't want barbecue, and I especially didn't want barbecue from somewhere I'd have to sit in a high cafe chair in a window to eat it.
By the way, as long as we're talking about how I got back on the train to go home, fuck the Blue Line, it's full of assholes. If you ride the Blue Line, I apologise, but surely you're aware you're surrounded by assholes, right? My god, I will never take the Red Line for granted again. Or live on the Blue Line.
So now I'm home, and I'm feeling thwarted, and I'm not going out again and you can't make me.
THIS WAS NOT AN ADVENTUR. IT WAS A TRAGEDIE.
I did not get a book or trousers or barbecue. I did get rubber cement and headphones. Blick sells both things, though the headphones are somewhat novelty. Still, for ten bucks, I now have earbuds that look like tiny salmon maki, which is pretty cool.
The Harold Washington Library never has the books I want, even though it always says it does. It's like a goblin went through the library and removed all the books it knew I would want, without telling anyone. And I didn't get trousers because I have NO TIME for someone who wants to sell me skinny jeans. Also I have either uncovered fashion's ultimate insanity OR the salesman has the worst patter ever, but I decided it was time to leave the store when he tried to sell me "wide leg skinny jeans".
Actually my afternoon was filled with skinny jeans, because after that fiasco I went to Wicker Park, one of the neighborhoods of Chicago, which I am not cool enough to walk around in. I saw more sockless boat shoes and skinny jeans and tattoos in one block of Wicker Park than I've seen in the rest of Chicago all year.
I didn't go to Lillie's Q. I walked past it and decided I didn't want barbecue, and I especially didn't want barbecue from somewhere I'd have to sit in a high cafe chair in a window to eat it.
By the way, as long as we're talking about how I got back on the train to go home, fuck the Blue Line, it's full of assholes. If you ride the Blue Line, I apologise, but surely you're aware you're surrounded by assholes, right? My god, I will never take the Red Line for granted again. Or live on the Blue Line.
So now I'm home, and I'm feeling thwarted, and I'm not going out again and you can't make me.
THIS WAS NOT AN ADVENTUR. IT WAS A TRAGEDIE.
