My return to Chicago; II

Maybe I've always had seasonal affective disorder. I do love to self diagnose, especially when the diagnosis concerns mental health aberrancies. Oh, I'm crazy, yay! Perhaps the constant sun of Los Angeles has ripened me emotionally and rationally, made me age the 3.5 years I can easily estimate I've aged. Its possible. If there's no sunshine for a Bunny to sprout in, a Bunny can't grow. Whatever the reason, I was not used to going without sun and the lack of it in the Chicago sky really irked me. When I walked off my plane, up the jetway and into Ohare airport last Thursday, I took one look out the window and wanted to slit my wrists. On the way to my cab it was cold. It was windy. I needed a hug really really badly, and there was no sexy guy there to give it to me.

I should say, for the purpose of authenticity, that I first took the Blue Line to the Damen stop, grabbed a cab in Wicker Park and had the driver take me to Lincoln Park where my sister lives. The ride from Wicker Park to Lincoln Park wasn't that lengthy, but it took me past two of the four neighborhoods I lived in during my stay in Chicago, and it was not fun. If you look through my archives, particularly at the "I'm so drunk again" stories, or that really fun, one-sided list of shit Tucker did to me that I posted for three minutes, pulled down, and subsequently have seen in my inbox every day since, then you'll understand why. My cab ride down memory lane was like:

-Oh look, that's the bar you got kicked out of for fucking a girl on the dance floor.
-Gee, isn't that where Tucker and you got into a fistfight on the corner? Yeah, the cops tried to arrest him. Good times.
-Look, that's where you found Maxie when your drunk, pathological, slut of an ex roommate let her stroll right out the front door.
-Ah, the abortion clinic. Memories. Good memories.

By the time I got to my sister's apartment in Lincoln Park, I was a mess. It would only get worse as my sister told me a story about a conversation she had with a mutual friend of ours who has always been sort of distant with me. She dated a fuck buddy of mine. I had always assumed that was why she maintained careful distance, but I was about to learn that I was wrong.

"So I was talking to Sue the other day, you know, the Sue who dated Brandon who you used to fuck?"

"Sure. Sweet girl. How's she doing?"

"Good, but listen. We're talking about Brandon and how she doesn't speak to him any more..."

"Right, because he's a passive aggressive twit..."

"Right."

"So she says, 'I know Bunny's obsessed with him. I hope this trip won't be too awkward.'"

"Huh?"

"I know. He told her you were obsessed with him."

"That's hilarious."

"I know."

"So Sue hasn't hung out with me much because Brandon told her that shit? Ostensibly, I haven't been able to be close with Sue, who's a really nice girl, because Brandon is a passive aggressive twit? And he told her such bullshit to make her feel all nervous and upset? His girlfriend? He wanted to make her feel upset. That's so nice."

"Yep."

"And Sue's not going to come to my party because Brandon may show up, right?"

"Yep."

"I feel like I'm in fifth grade."

My cell beeped. I had a text message, and it was from Brandon. It said, "Come to such and such bar on Clark. I'm there."

No fuckin' way.

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Posted by: colin san at October 18, 2006 08:58 AM

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