BlackFive

I received an email recently from a New Yorker accusing me of being an ambassador for Chicago and wanted to know if there was anything that I hated about my hometown. Maybe, he's just jealous about our green river?

There is plenty that I dislike about Chicago, but two things come immediately to mind...

I hate Mimes. I hate Mimes like Frank J. hates Monkeys. I work and live close to Michigan Avenue in Chicago. I see Mimes all of the time. I really hate the guy that is painted up like the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz and then does the Moonwalk. I walk past and he gets insulted because I don't throw a few dollars into his milk-crate donation box. Get a grip. This is Chicago, not Venice Beach.

Then, there's Bike Messengers. I used to be one when I was in college. So I don't hate 'em sooo much. But some of them are just plain nuts. We had one kill a pedestrian last year. And he didn't run him over with his bike, either.

I hit a Bike Messenger today with my truck. Or, to put it more accurately, a bike messenger hit me.

I was exiting my garage onto to a oneway street. I took a quick look right for any pedestrians on the sidewalk, then looked left for any oncoming traffic and merged onto the street.

A bike messenger was barrelling down the wrong way on my street. So, when I moved out into traffic, I pulled out in front of him and he tried to stop.

It was icy this morning. He slid head first into the passenger side of my truck. BANG!

I stop and look right at him. He starts pounding on the side of my truck. He's pissed. Really pissed.

I get out. "Hey, buddy, are you okay?"

He takes off fast, swearing at me and yelling that I deserved the dent he put in my truck. He's going the wrong way up a busy street, again. A car almost hit him because he was busy screaming at me over his shoulder and wasn't paying attention.

My best friend (and godfather of Little Blackfive) is an auto-body mechanic - one of the best in town - so dents don't really matter to me. No stress for me, but that guy is gonna drop dead from apoplexy.

So, there you go. I hate Mimes and Bike Messengers.