Living in Chicago truly provides a never ending source of material.
Having lived here my entire life, I have a unique perspective on the Packers/Bears rivalry and like to share some of the stupidity that I witness on a fairly regular basis. Here is yesterday’s misadventure:
I was in my car, driving home from work after another fantastic day of fixing all that is wrong in the world. The street I was driving on was down to one lane, not sure of the reason why, but the radio was on, the coffee was warm, and I was managing to deal with the Chicago traffic the best way I could.
As we crept up the street, I saw in the right hand lane at the intersection the familiar sight of a bright orange IDOT truck, which had been responsible for the lane closure. It looked like they were patching pot holes, which would in turn destroy my favorite game to play in the late winter/early spring while driving of “Dodge the Ditch”. No problem, radio was still on, coffee still warm.
For those unfamiliar with IDOT workers, they usually appear in groups-two or three in total. One of the group is usually hanging back, making sure everyone else is working, or that’s what they tell me.
As I continued the procession to the intersection, one of the workers must have noticed my car, and the Packers license plate frame I have on the front plate. I am not one who tries to draw attention to myself as a Packers fan while driving. Yes, there are license plates on the front and back of my car, but that is it. I keep the car flags in the car, never putting them out unless I am in Wisconsin, or those special events, you know, like winning the Super Bowl. Days like that, I go all out. Yesterday, just a normal day.
The worker saw my car, and as I was stopped, pointed at my license plate holder, game me a thumbs down, followed by the extension of a certain finger. Hmmm…how was I to respond?
Since we were stopped, I had the opportunity to reach in the back seat, grab my Packers Super Bowl XLV car flag, and put it on display on the driver’s side window. Why give someone the finger, when I can do the same without getting my hand cold.
The look on this worker, my tax dollars hard at work giving me grief, went from all smiles to all serious. He turned around, and went (supposedly) back to work. Success was mine, yet again.
Like I said, a never ending source of material.
Filed Under: John Rehor