The Smug City Snob with Nothing to Show but Three Tattoos
Heading out to a wedding
Young kids I’ve never met before.
Daughter of a friend.
He and his ex get along just enough, so
I wonder how they’ll think of their own wedding day today.
Through the winding hellish passage from city to the Western Suburbs
I realize I must not be depressed enough.
With time to kill, I pull into a Wheaton Chilis for a drink.
And there it is. The Feeling.
That empty feeling of mediocrity and directionless arrival in a place that could be anywhere
Where the people could be anyone
Where everyone is no one.
Just one drink
I’ve plenty of time
But the best looking bartender at a fast casual restaurant in Wheaton comps me a second.
She made it by accident
Suited.
Because nothing about this location and condition was done with thoughtful purpose.
