Was it War? I Lot of Bombs Were Dropped...

05/18/2008

I am in Chicago; a place where you could not pay me enough to live.  Traffic here is always at a standstill.  Some of the people I ran into are beyond rude and crass.  The last statement was set in concrete and etched in stone this evening at a less-than-good restaurant called La Hacienda De Los Fernandez in Addison, Illinois, a suburb of Chicago.

The story:  I was looking for a place to eat my supper.  The road my hotel is on, Lake Street, didn’t show me a lot of choices, given to my non-meat eating proclivities, though I refuse to classify myself as a vegetarian any longer.  I decided on Mexican, even though my choice (La Hacienda) turned out to be more Tex-Mex than Mexican, and I think the quality of the food probably added to my decision this particular restaurant sucks.  I had spinach enchiladas but began the meal with a Negra Modela and some chips and salsa.  Salsa good, chips bad; beer okay, but not great – wimpy, enchiladas – yuck!  Boo! 

Across the three-sided bar from me were three guys with “f-bomb” syndrome.  You know the type. They cannot go more than three or four indecipherable syllables without dropping a bomb.  These particular goofballs could hardly make it beyond two syllables before uttering a “fuck,” which was totally understandable on my side of the bar, maybe twenty-five feet away, and could probably be heard outside of the bar in the restaurant area.  The boys were very loud, in addition to being vulgar, and, surprisingly, no one came to let them know they were perhaps a little beyond a modicum of decorum.  These guys were very “working class,” most assuredly “Hillary” people, and so helped me form this postulate. 

“The amount of times one uses the word ‘fuck’ in any given sentence is in direct reverse proportion to the IQ level of the utterer.” For those of you in the Chicago area this simply means, the more “fucks” one utters the lower the IQ.

And that is all I have to say about that…