Living In The Gold Coast, Chicago

Moving to the city from the 'burbs was probably one of the best ideas Dave had that I went along with in a while. Somehow I was able to procure a pretty sweet apartment in a part of town I very obviously don't belong in, and it's worked out pretty well in my favor. An example of why I don't belong here? Apparently Vince Vaughn and Derrick Rose live in the building across the street, and are regulars at a restaurant around the block. Jay Cutler is usually there, too, but that's not saying much since he seems to gravitate toward any dwelling with a wet bar that's serving drinks the night before Bears games.

However, I've learned that even though I live in an upscale neighborhood, no one is ever be able to escape the far-reaching grasp of complete and utter oddities in the form of human beings. This is why one of the staples of this blog is going to be the absolute characters that live in and around the Gold Coast. I'll try to take pictures of these people, but there's no guarantees, since I don't want to get shanked and these people, without question, have mental issues.

I'll start out with a story, since I haven't seen this guy since and probably won't ever again, but our encounter was truly of epic proportions...

Coming home from dinner one night this summer Dave and I were just about inside our building when a man started literally yelling at us from the sidewalk. We turned around and he shoved in our faces his portfolio of poetry. It's accompanied by his artwork. And it's on yellow copy paper. We read the poetry and comment on it's artistic value, and then try to hand the packet back to the man. NO. DICE. He insists that we pay him for the poems and just so we're clear that he won't take no for an answer, he lifts his shirt to show us the absolutely horrifying scar he got from shrapnel in 'nam which has been exacerbated by weight gain over the years. Welp, needless to say $20.00 later (don't even get me started) we're the proud owners of the musings of Marcus L. Greene.

UPDATE: As I retrieved the packet from the refrigerator where it hangs proudly to take a picture of it and share it online, Dave just exclaimed that he saw Marcus the other day, and that he asked Dave if he liked poetry. Sorry, homeboy, unless you've got another opus to hock, we're all set.