we all know that chicago is a city of unexplainable random traffic jams, but the one i encountered today wins the award for it's near induction of psychotic break. on my way from target to the grocery store (step 1, buy everyone's holiday gifts in one place, step 2, buy assload of potatoes for latke making) i found myself stuck in standstill traffic on a not particularly busy road at a not particularly important intersection at 11AM on a sunday. not just a little backed up i tell you, NO MOVEMENT for about 20 minutes. i made myself feel better about it by imagining the gruesome carnage that must be surrounding the worst accident ever. damn it, i thought, if i'm going to sit here, growing older, feeling my life pass me by with avril lavigne for soundtrack (how can a city with so many people have so few radio stations?), somebody had better be dead. but alas, it wasn't a 4-car pileup with 2 ruptured spleens and a decapitation. it was the world's longest parade of non-badass looking harley riders. i kid you not, thousands of very docile looking motorcylce riders parading down western avenue, blocking traffic for miles in every direction, ruining my life.
i guess i'll save my tyrade about not understanding buffalo wings for another day.
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