Back in undergrad days, I was helping run our debate tournament. The U of Toronto team bailed on our party (despite the exceptionally high liquor-to-debater ratio to compensate for the usually poor male-female ratio) to "explore the slums." Spotting a van with Canadian plates filled with white boys meandering through the Robert Taylor Homes at midnight, a Chicago police car promptly pulled them over and escorted them out of the area. I understand some pointed advice was also offered.
Years later, I was returning from a misspent night on the north side and forgot to switch from the Green Line to the Red (back in the days when the green line went north) in the Loop. So instead of waiting for the Garfield bus at the well-lit, crowded Dan Ryan Expressway, I found myself nervously waiting at the Green Line stop (which then had twoseedy liquor stores) at 2:30 a.m. Luckily, a police car passed by and, seeing disaster waiting to happen, stopped to wait until the bus came.
What caps the story, however, is that five minutes later, a U of C undergrad gets off the train, carrying a cello. He waited calmly for the bus, totally oblivious to what a moron he was.
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Date: 2004-02-17 11:14 am (UTC)Back in undergrad days, I was helping run our debate tournament. The U of Toronto team bailed on our party (despite the exceptionally high liquor-to-debater ratio to compensate for the usually poor male-female ratio) to "explore the slums." Spotting a van with Canadian plates filled with white boys meandering through the Robert Taylor Homes at midnight, a Chicago police car promptly pulled them over and escorted them out of the area. I understand some pointed advice was also offered.
Years later, I was returning from a misspent night on the north side and forgot to switch from the Green Line to the Red (back in the days when the green line went north) in the Loop. So instead of waiting for the Garfield bus at the well-lit, crowded Dan Ryan Expressway, I found myself nervously waiting at the Green Line stop (which then had twoseedy liquor stores) at 2:30 a.m. Luckily, a police car passed by and, seeing disaster waiting to happen, stopped to wait until the bus came.
What caps the story, however, is that five minutes later, a U of C undergrad gets off the train, carrying a cello. He waited calmly for the bus, totally oblivious to what a moron he was.