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Dec. 8th, 2006 02:36 pm
Fooles arrandes
Ever have on of those days were you burn all your CTA karma first thing in the morning?
Like a fool, I was up too late on Wednesday, but I woke up early yesterday so I could meet![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
niemandsrose directly after work to go book-buying. She needed English dialects, I needed Asian art, and we thought the Powell's on Wabash would be the best place to find both. And being who I am, it's physically impossible for me to head down to the Loop this time of year without visiting the Christkindlmarket.
All was going well until the CTA trains began backing up because of another in a series of distressingly common signal failures downtown. She wasn't put out--there were things to look at, after all--and I at least had reading with me--which proved particularly useful for avoiding a conversation with a sour old man across from me. ("I know how to fix this! Take Daley and his wife, the head of the CTA and his wife, and make them read one of these trains for a week." Thank you, sir, for playing; don't give up your day job. Oh, wait, you did. You're retired and have nothing but free time. So STFUA.)
But when I got there, I was dying to eat, so I went right up and ordered some Quarkkäulchen, which are a yummy new addition to the menu under the name "Cheese Fritters". We looked at ornaments a bit, ate some more, and then I had the dreadful realisation that it was later than I thought and the Powell's was closed.
Had I been alone, I would've sighed and dragged myself home, but companionship makes one bold and we set out for the Powell's on Lincoln with its outstanding collection of art books. This time there were problems on the Red Line and we waited ages for a northbound train. I half-jokingly toldniemandsrose to dump me and my bad luck and I repaid her by managing to completely misremember the route of the Lincoln bus despite my years living in Lincoln Park.
Half-an-hour or so later, we finally trudged up to the door of Powell's to find--against all odds--that it was still open, due to a book reading. However, because of where the seating was, browsing was prohibited IN THE ART SECTION ALONE. The sheer perversity of it all had me laughing instantly.
Unfortunately,niemandsrose struck out on dialectology, but found some good picks in Linguistics nevertheless. So don't be too surprised if one of you should end up with a grammar of Misantla Totonac for Christmas or Hogmanay.
Like a fool, I was up too late on Wednesday, but I woke up early yesterday so I could meet
niemandsrose directly after work to go book-buying. She needed English dialects, I needed Asian art, and we thought the Powell's on Wabash would be the best place to find both. And being who I am, it's physically impossible for me to head down to the Loop this time of year without visiting the Christkindlmarket.All was going well until the CTA trains began backing up because of another in a series of distressingly common signal failures downtown. She wasn't put out--there were things to look at, after all--and I at least had reading with me--which proved particularly useful for avoiding a conversation with a sour old man across from me. ("I know how to fix this! Take Daley and his wife, the head of the CTA and his wife, and make them read one of these trains for a week." Thank you, sir, for playing; don't give up your day job. Oh, wait, you did. You're retired and have nothing but free time. So STFUA.)
But when I got there, I was dying to eat, so I went right up and ordered some Quarkkäulchen, which are a yummy new addition to the menu under the name "Cheese Fritters". We looked at ornaments a bit, ate some more, and then I had the dreadful realisation that it was later than I thought and the Powell's was closed.
Had I been alone, I would've sighed and dragged myself home, but companionship makes one bold and we set out for the Powell's on Lincoln with its outstanding collection of art books. This time there were problems on the Red Line and we waited ages for a northbound train. I half-jokingly told
niemandsrose to dump me and my bad luck and I repaid her by managing to completely misremember the route of the Lincoln bus despite my years living in Lincoln Park.Half-an-hour or so later, we finally trudged up to the door of Powell's to find--against all odds--that it was still open, due to a book reading. However, because of where the seating was, browsing was prohibited IN THE ART SECTION ALONE. The sheer perversity of it all had me laughing instantly.
Unfortunately,
niemandsrose struck out on dialectology, but found some good picks in Linguistics nevertheless. So don't be too surprised if one of you should end up with a grammar of Misantla Totonac for Christmas or Hogmanay.Tags: