Yesterday I had Chipotle back to back, lunch and dinner. Love that place. Good food, organic chicken and meat, it’s from Denver. I actually used to go the first Chipotle, before there were others on Evans Street by the University of Denver campus. Anyways. I taught rock climbing in the afternoon, ate Chipotle, and rode the 151 home down Michigan Avenue. Leisurely ride home. I got off the bus in Lincoln Park and decided I’d cruise on down to the beach as the weather was so nice. So I roll on down there, over the pedestrian bridge and notice the traffic on Lakeshore drive, bumper to bumper even at 7pm. I smiled and was thankful for my short commute and the beautiful day and the pretty view and the flowers on the bridge placed by Mayor Daley’s folks to make Chicago even better. I walked on down the far end of the bridge and smiled at a few pretty girls running and biking by on the lakefront path, Chicago is so good for pretty girls. Then I walked off the path down the beach and laid on the sand, right by the water and enjoyed the time, did some thinking, and relaxed. Tried a couple friends on the phone but nobody was around. Eventually got up and headed home, back over the bridge, and midway through the park, right by the public restrooms felt a peculiar feeling in my gut. I considered the bathroom and even turned to walk towards it but opted out as it would be dirty and I figured judging by my experience with matters such as these, that I’d need some cleanup time. May as well head home I figured, so headed that way. Across the rest of the park, into my neighborhood. And it started to get bad, about 5 blocks from my house. I kept it under control as I walked, taking nearly all my concentration. Then a quick seize up and I had to stop… and squeeze. Ok, it subsided and I walked on, in better shape, now only three blocks from home – and it started screaming to get out of me – I stopped and fought back the beast, and again controlled it. Another half block, and another battle ensued… then another… and I couldn’t take it and dropped my drawers and let fly in some bushes, not very well concealed though it was dark, only a half block from home.
I actually found the whole thing pretty hilarious through it all, I mean, what’s the worst that happens? In India and Africa that kind of thing is almost commonplace, it reminded me of my travels.