the battle of the bus

Yesterday, around 5:40, I was in the middle of the longest bus ride home ever.

(I’m not sure what happens to Chicago drivers when precipitation hits the ground, but people seem to forget how to function behind the wheel of their vehicle, and this goes double for the CTA.)

Normally, I hop the California bus at like 5:05 and switch to the Diversey bus around 5:15 and am home by 5:45 at the latest.

I should have known it was going to be a sucky commute when at 5:25 I was sitting on an unmoving California bus that hadn’t even left my stop yet.

Blah blah, I finally get to the Diversey bus.

As I get on the bus, I notice it’s pretty full. There’s a seat I see right away, but it’s one of the seats in the front that face each other, and there are two people on either side of it – a guy, and a rather big woman in a yellow coat.

I’m pretty small, but I knew I would be squeezed and uncomfortable in that seat. So, I saw a seat in the back (next to a girl who looked JUST like Betsy, FYI) and went for that one. I put my headphones on and zoned out.

A few stops later, a rather big older man gets on the bus and plops himself down in that seat. I remember thinking “Huh,” but then zoned back out. It takes all kinds on the CTA, you know.

Suddenly, I hear screaming, and everyone on the bus looks. The woman is holding up her umbrella in defense while the man screams at her. From what I can tell, he’s basically been ON her, and she’d asked him to move over or at least move his arm off her, and he’d flipped out.  The man starts hitting her and yelling things like “Fat Pig!” 

There’s lots of yelling, and some young-ish dudes look ready to jump in and help out.  The people around them didn’t seem to know what to do, though a couple reached in to try and block the blows. The man finally reaches his stop and gets off the bus, after yelling “You got some nasty customers, man.”

Things calm down once he’s gone. A voice from behind me shouts “We don’t blame you, honey” to the woman, who looks humiliated and keeps her head down the rest of the way home. (I felt terrible for her. If someone had called me names in front of a packed bus, I would have wanted to die)

What I think was most interesting was that the bus driver didn’t even react. He didn’t stop the bus, he didn’t even seem to look back at what was happening. I realize bus drivers see crazy stuff every day, but seriously – a woman is being assaulted on the bus. People are screaming and shouting and it’s a dangerous situation, and you’re going to keep on driving? Really?

(It was Diversey bus 2202 at around 5:40pm yesterday. The man got off at the Paulina stop.)

This follows an incident a few weeks ago where Eric, Brent, and I were on the Diversey bus heading east around 5:20pm, and on the bus with us was a woman with probably six kids, all of whom were screaming at the top of their lungs, running around the bus, beating each other up, one was even crawling around on the floor under customers seats, and the woman couldn’t control them.

Even as these kids continued to run around the bus, bumping into people, screaming, the bus driver didn’t do anything.  The rest of us had to listen to them until they got to their stop.

I’d like to feel safe on the bus.  I generally already don’t feel safe much of the time. (It’s Chicago, hello) but I don’t want to be worried about some dude punching me on the bus.  If some dude were to punch me, I’d like to think that the bus driver would do something about it. Because really, punching guy should have gotten the police called.

Geez.

Be careful, and look out for yourselves.

‘Cause clearly, you’re the only one who is.

Aleisha!

I very much enjoyed having my college roomate and dearest friend Aleisha in town for Labor Day weekend – and what a weekend it was! We did endless shopping, looking for last minute clothes to wear on her honeymoon (as she’s getting married on October 10th! And I’m totally a bridesmaid!) and took a trip to the Conservatory at Lincoln Park to take photos of amazing flowers. We had a lovely outdoor dinner at Cafe Ba-Ba-Reeba, hunted down the cat at Myopic Books, and had an all-around great time. I get to see her again in one month (AH!) for her actual wedding in Traverse City, Michigan, and I’m so excited – as she is going to be a spectacular bride. Holler.

Dunny pre-release @ rotofugi

rotofugi.com

What’s a Dunny? Hey, Wikipedia!

Tonight @

Rotofugi

1953 W. Chicago Ave.

Chicago, IL 60622

Dear Clarkes on Belmont & Lincoln….

Dear Chicago Eaters –

When I first moved to Chicago, the first establishment I would say I frequented was Clarke’s on Belmont.

I am breaking up with Clarkes on Belmont (and the one on Lincoln Avenue, too, but more on that later.)

Frankly, it’s not an enjoyable place anymore.

Not that it was ever great, but five years ago as a Chicago beginner, I thought it was a blast. The location and being open 24 hours can’t be beat, but I’ve come to realize it’s downfalls.

The food has stayed the same – though prices have gone up. The food has never been that spectacular to begin with, and to think of paying more for it is ridiculous.  I’ve never had sunny side up eggs there that weren’t runny, and for some reason getting an iced tea seems to be equitable to astrophysics. 

The service at the Belmont location just gets worse and worse.

There used to a waiter there we called “stoner dude,” who would inevitably get about 75% of your order right – then do something random like forget a persons order, or bring cake in place of soup. He did all this with a completely plastic look on his face.

There was also an incident with a terrible waitress. Three friends and I went to Clarkes for dinner one night, and – though it was hardly full – had to wait a while to be seated while the servers sat talking in a booth in the back,  not paying attention to us. Finally seated, we were handed menus and about fifteen minutes later our drink order was taken. After what must have been another twenty minutes, our drinks arrived and we ordered out food. DECADES later, our food arrived and our waitress seemed to vanish. We didn’t see her again for ninety minutes and had to grab other waiters to get missing silverware (there were four of us, and she only gave us three sets of silverware), and drink refills, until one of my friends grabbed another waiter and asked for our check. We left a very standard 15% tip and left – and this waitress chased us out of the restaurant, offended that we gave her such a terrible tip.  

Really?

I’ve only been to the other Clarkes – on Lincoln Avenue – twice.

The first time was after seeing a show, and I only had tea, so there wasn’t anything to complain about.

Last week, I stopped there for a pre-show dinner with friends.

Our rude server immediately rubbed us the wrong way.  You’re a server, smile. Don’t act like I should be grateful to be seated. There were all of four tables full when we arrived.

One friend ordered an omelette, and it arrived literally brown. Like, burned. When he asked to send it back, nicely, the server responded “You don’t want it that way?” to which my clever friend replied “Burned? No.” With a sigh, the server took the omelette away and – after a while – returned one that was only slightly less burned, which my friend just dealt with. (It was also noted that the Diet Coke tasted really off, but by that point we were just over it.)

And, at both locations, you cannot split your check. It’s 2009. Come on.

In a city like Chicago, where there are literally thousands of food options, why deliberately go someplace terrible?

I’m saying no to Clarkes from now on.

Marche

Dating a guy with a penchant for surprises keeps me on my toes – as well as causes me to once in a great while up my game. 

So, last night (after a month of me barely keeping my mouth shut) I loaded the amazing Mr. Prahl into a cab and hauled him down to Marche, a French restaurant that’s always been on the top of my “places I should probably go when I need an excuse to dress up.”

I think Eric’s mind was blown. Largely because he had never heard of the place.

From the outside, Marche is rather non-descript. If you didn’t know what was underneath those red awnings, you’d have literally no reason to head inside. It could be any restaurant on Randolph.  Once you step inside, however, it’s like walking into Cirque du Soliel presents Moulin Rouge. Colors and props and murals are everywhere – but it manages to not cross the line into tacky. It’s just whimsical and fun.

**AND, their music selections were great – The Flaming Lips and Radiohead were both overheard.

Our food was also sensational. I had the Market salad (goat cheese, red peppers, sunflower seeds, field greens) and the Wild Bass, both of which were delicious. Eric partook of the Atlantic Salmon and Voulauvent des camignons (a fantastic puff pastry with mushroom appetizer) which were also delicious. For dessert, I tried the Raspberry and Apple Cobbler and he had the Profiteroles (cream puffs with ice cream and chocolate sauce) and on top of all that, the service was great – Danica, our server, was always right there when needed.

We both left with bellies full, but not to an uncomfortable level – which, for us, is a huge plus.

Ah, two foodies in a food city.

Marche does a Prix Fixe menu on Mondays and Wednesdays. I reccomend experiencing the restautant for the first time that way. I’m a big fan of Prix Fixe menus in general, and Marche’s menu is rather expansive.

Also, The story behind the restaurant and it’s decor is also interesting. Click here if you care.

Mavis and Tom in Chicago recap!

My Mom and Tom came to Chicago last weekend – for no real reason other than to play in the big city (and to attend the Ravenswood Run, the first time they’ve ever seen me run – I really think that most people from “back home” don’t believe I actually run.) It was a lovely visit, despite Chicago’s apparent new mantra of “Let’s rain ALL THE TIME!”

First, we went to the Museum of Science and Industry. I had never been there, and was totally impressed with the sheer size and scope of it. The U-505 exhibit was absolutely grand, as was the model city of Chicago. Mom and Tom, of course, found solace in the Farm exhibit. Just like home.

Next, we made our way to the Lincoln Park Zoo to check out the natives.

Bright and early Sunday morning, they accompanied Bob, Eric, and I to the Ravenswood run, which was actually a brief reprieve from rain.

 

We all ran really good times – and then went to Golden Nugget for some post-race breakfast mayhem (waffles, etc) where it of course rained again.

All in all, it was a great weekend and I’m really glad they came.  Apparently my parents cannot come to Chicago in nice weather though. Its always either raining, snowing, or ten million oppressive degrees. Ah well, one of these days we’ll get it right.

Adventure: Cubs vs. Marlins – 7/26/08

I live in Wrigleyville. Literally, I can hear the roar of Cubs fans from my apartment on game days. Yet, until last weekend I had never been in the friendly confines of Wrigley Field. Until my dear friend Chris came to town.

The outside view:

It rapidly became a game we like to call “Things I ate at Wrigley Field.”

Then the Umpire took a ball to the throat! Gah! There was much delaying and hovering.Here’s a pic of some guy.
What a lovely day and aperfect view!
Post-game.Yay Cubs! Even though they lost!

City in Limbo -

It hit 61 in some places yesterday in Chicago, but apparently it’s supposed to snow this weekend.

Poor wonderful Chicago – You and your citizens don’t know what to do, do you? Do I wear a fleece, or my winter coat? Will I at any point today need gloves? Gah! It’s enough to make people go crazy.

But at least it’s getting pretty.

As I was walking 2 miles at lunch yesterday in the 50+ degree sunshine, I was reminded of how much I bitched last year about how hot the summer was. I promise to remember how angrycold this winter was ANY time I feel like whining about heat this year.

Cross my heart.