Misc Crap
Ever since I moved to Chicago, there has been a vacant building on Wells Street that looked like it used to be a car dealership. I kind of don't understand why the previous dealership had to leave, because it's in a pretty good location on Wells (right next to the creepy creepy Atom's Antiques). But over the past couple of weeks, I've seen activity in that building again. And, finally on Monday Grossinger City Toyota opened. It's kind of nice because there are people walking around and busily working when I walk past now. The route to work isn't so empty on that stretch of street. >small sigh< It's nice.

I was going to make this long story shorter... but then I realized that I don't care if you have to read through all sorts of crap. So here's a story*: Once upon a time, there was a man who sold ice cream. His name was Don. His ice cream store sold what can only be described as "nasty crap", which the store called "Sinless Sweet Cream". One day, a young lady who we'll call "Heather T." came into Don's ice cream store. She wanted to see the nutritional information on the aforementioned "Sinless Sweet Cream". Don had just received that information, but he couldn't find it. He looked everywhere, but had to tell Heather T. that he couldn't find the information. She said it was okay, and that she still wanted to get some anyway... so she did; plus she gave Don a bunch of free passes to her gym, we'll call X Sport Fitness. Then, a few days later, Heather T. came back to Don's ice cream store. She, again, wanted to see the health information on the Sinless Sweet Cream and, again, wanted some of the aforementioned ice cream. But this time Don was ready, having previously found the information on the Sinless Sweet Cream. Don was able to show Heather T. all of the information. Heather T. asked Don if he had been to her gym yet, and Don said that he hadn't. Heather T. told him that if he showed up the next morning at 10 AM she would show him all around the gym. Don is a weak bastard... so he did it. Heather T. showed him all around the gym the next day... laughing politely and softly touching his arm. She told him that she was from Grand Rapids (Kentwood to be exact, to which Don said "Studio 28... right? That's Kentwood?" He was right). And she said that she was a dancer (not a very good picture, but whatever) for the Arena Football League's Chicago Rush. She basically was aggressive and Don was passive and... before you knew it, I had joined the gym. Yeah... I joined a gym. Which I don't have money (or maybe even the time) for. The End.
* some names have been changed, to protect me from looking like a complete idiot.