that "mostly" is very important, as you'll soon learn
but, the good stuff comes first, as the good stuff happened first. 6 of us drove down, 2 cars, to spend Tuesday night with some dude, and then go to the Wednesday day game between the cubbies and brewers at antiquated Wrigley Field.
This dude's apartment was in the ghetto. Liquor store on every corner, everything except the street signs was in either Spanish or Polish (don't know why Polish, exactly) and we heard at _least_ 2 gunshots. But there was a superb deep dish pizza place next door, and that made it seem great. ALSO, HIS PLACE HAD NO AIR CONDITIONING. With 7 people in there, this got to be a problem. One of the other fellas and myself had the brilliant idea of going to a local bar, for a cold one and a place with AC. As it turns out, we we went to a place that is frequented by at least 700 mexicans and two crazy white dudes. Luckily for us, we were told, none of the mexicans were there (they don't like strange white guys in their bar, I guess) and the two crazy white dudes where. Boy, let me tell you, they were crazy... but we beat them at pool and all was OK. Soon after, we retired to the apartment, where 6 people slept in one room, me on the wooden floor.
Next day, we get up and ride the 'L'.. something, despite numerous trips to Chicago, I had never done before. It was actually cool as shit, if not moderately stuffy and filled with wackjobs (though not as many as on the subway in NYC).
We get to Wrigley and I swear it is the most beautiful structure I have yet encountered in my life. Television does it justice, sure, but to see it.. to see the ivy covered outfield walls, the patch of grass behind centerfield, the handmade scoreboard, the brick wall behind home plate, the bleachers on rooftops across Waveland and Sheffield Avenues.. wow. Just wow. A baseball fan's dream. And then, to top it all off, the Brewers come out of nowhere and WIN in a fashion that made most cub fans in the ballpark want to eat poison. This, of course, made me exceedingly happy.
The real fun, though, began when we got back to the apartment and got ready to leave.
One of our cars was gone. We would soon find out it was towed, which was a minor relief, but nonetheless was not encouraging at all.
Then, in our second attempt to leave, we noticed that our second car (at this time, our ONLY car) had been affixed with a BOOT.
In all, it costed somewhere around 250 smackers to get our cars back on the road.
Despite the great fun that was had, I am _NEVER_ driving to chicago again in my life.