You fought all the way, Johnny Reb!

My co-worker was telling me he's heading back to the holler this weekend because he hasn't been since Christmas and his grandparents are already on borrowed time. Sounds like there's a lot going on, though. "Sunday is the reenactment of the Civil War. Guess who loses." I was commisserating, since reenactees tend to be much, much more my type than his.

Full night

Saturday was a very very full day. The morning was quiet enough, but around midafternoon I headed south to hook up with Nuphy. Traffic was a bit worse than expected and the Madison dropped me off at Halsted just in time to see the Halsted bus go past--and turn onto Madison? What, Greekfest already? No, actually, Taste of Greektown which looked for all intents and purposes exactly the same, though perhaps there were fewer adorable schoolchildren being forced into fustanellas over the course of the evening.

I wouldn't know, however, since I was on a schedule that left me just enough time to try one or two dishes while wending my way between the booths. Some time ago, the opening of our first Cypriot eatery had caught my attention, but I haven't really been to Greektown since. I sped past the other booths with their barely-distinguishable offerings (i.e. gyros, shish kebabs, calamari, etc.) right up to Venus Mezedopolion and was rewarded for my bloody-mindedness with...PORK! The headliner was afelia with pourgouri, juicy chunks of pig meat marinated overnight in red wine, stewed, and served on a bed of bulgar and noodles. OMFG it was good. I remarked on how surprised I was to find a pork dish and the server said, "It's our favourite meat." Coulda fooled me! Those wily Greeks, hoarding all the pork for themselves and serving us naive tourists nothing but lamb, seafood, and salty cheese!

After that, I got a bougatsa from Artopolis Bakery and Café. It's like a galaktoboureko (or "galactic burrito", as I call 'em) only the filling is a little creamier, less sweet, and lemony. I think I prefer the bougatsa but obviously further taste tests are needed. With it in hand, I continued south, caught the bus, and showed up at Nuphy's. He insisted on giving me a full tour of the team of Polish putzfraus' handiwork and I showed him my new Chinese goodies. We then began the long trek south to HP, him poor thing with a 12-pack of Pilsner Urquell in hand. At tyrannio's and innerdoggie's, we feasted on potato-leek soup (I left the gazpacho and borscht for others) and Brazilian wafer cookies while tyrannio and I geeked out about languages. (His Teach yourself Sanskrit book has some example sentences that must be seen to be believed!) Our Famous Published Author Friend, now resident in WP, was kind enough to give us a ride back north, which gave me and her a chance to catch up on things. (I didn't realise how needful this was until only when dropping off Nuphy did she come to the realisation that this was the man I'd dated for five years.)

All in all, I was home at the early hour of 11 when I realised I'd promised a co-worker/bar buddy I'd stop by Big Chicks to hear the new dj if it wasn't too late. It'd been all of 28 hrs. since I'd been there, sipping cocktails with niemandsrose and febrile before dinner at Tweet with monshu and one of the Jesuits in Peru, but I figured staying for one drink would be fine. I must've met 20 new people in the two hours I'd ended up staying. The gay rodeo (see mikiedoggie for details) had been earlier that day, so there was a more unusual mix of people than other days. I was in a good mood, content just to watch the panorama unfold in front of me.

Then things got strange.

Full night, cont.

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