Finally, after a decade of imagining it, I had arrived in Chicago. The Big City. Home. Although I didn’t look the part, I was ready to take the place by storm. Within three months, it was clear that instead, Chicago was going to bend me over its knee and spank my ass red with the rotten corpse femur of Daddy Daley while I helplessly, and more and more self-destructively, took the beating like a frightened little bitch.