Saturday, July 27, 2002

And the 9:30:
Nine at night and I just went outside for the first time--that has to be seriously unhealthy at some physical or psychological level. The elevator was as stuffy as a gym bag, but once outside on the sidewalk, the air, though warm, was comfortable. I went to Starbucks with my wife for a caffeine jolt, the first time I've ever been there after sundown. Then we walked down Division between Dearborn and State, a thumping block of bars and the yuppies who make them their habitat. A couple of nutcases were poking their heads out the sunroof of a limo like the mechanical prairie dogs in the arcade game. The proud Hancock stands tall over it all, its necklace of red, white, and blue lights still pulsating through the high night sky. But coming inside to our apartment never felt so cool, or so quiet.

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