I’ve tried to write a coherent post about this subject, why we hate Lincoln park and would move immediately if we could and every time it dissolves into a ranty mess that would make little sense to anyone, so I’m going to break this up a bit and write til I start to lose it then do a second post.
(I wrote this the old fashioned way with pen and paper while waiting for my laundry to dry at the laundry mat, one of my favorite places for writing.)
It all started with small things, the women I saw on the street were either dressed in workout clothes or skinny jeans and black boots with a puffy black North Face coat. It’s disturbing to me when everyone wears the same thing, maybe that’s just me.
Going to the grocery was another surprise. Women were decked out in full makeup, designer coats and obviously expensive high heeled boots. To shop for groceries. I would go in pajama pants if boyfriendpants wouldn’t make fun. Of course, I mostly stay home, pajama pants are kinda my uniform.
All of these small things were just indicators that I wouldn’t fit in with people my age if we continued to live in this neighborhood. I began to worry a little about making friends. (I’ve halfway started to make new online friends and that’s about it. Oh! A new girl moved in downstairs and didn’t care that Bogart jumped on her, she seemed nice.)
Over time, as we started to recognize other people from our building, saying hello and apologizing for Bogart’s rather enthusiastic greetings, it dawned on us that I may not be the oldest person in the building, but boyfriendpants definitely is. Oy.
Wait. There’s more. When the agent showed boyfriendpants the apartment, she mentioned the “great” bar on the corner that was a fun place to meet friends for a beer. What she neglected to mention, or maybe didn’t know was that said bar is crazy busy night and day. And that it’s a sports bar. A sports bar that shows games from specific teams. Teams that are very popular in Chicago. Very popular with the young professional male who recently graduated from college who still likes to drink after work as if he were still living with his frat buddies. To say that such a place is loud is an understatement,(there are tvs on the patio. several. ugh.) and to tell you that friday and saturday nights around 1 or 2AM make me feel homicidal just can’t express to you how annoying drunk former frat boys can be when loudly stumbling down your street to get home or to their cars to drive home in that condition could possibly be. (Seriously. I’ve heard a girl reenact Lady Gaga’s “Telephone”, several male/female screaming matches, a couple of fights including a group of people and at least 5 or 6 drunken singalongs through my CLOSED windows. HATE.)
Then, the city defrosted and things only got worse…..
thanks for listening,
p.s. part two coming soon