Did Not See That Coming, or Chicago has turned me into an awful person.

So I'm sitting in the McDonald's near the Chicago Red line stop, rocking out with the dollar menu, because, you know, I'm poor. And I'm reading a copy of The Ultimates (Avengers) that my buddy Matt Engle lent me. If you don't know, it's the one with Captain America, Hulk, Iron Man, Thor, etc.

For some back story, the McDonald's at the Chicago Red line stop can be kindof sketchy at any time of day, and by sketchy I mean there are a lot of bums that will be there yelling stuff or asking everyone in the restaurant for money.

After living in Chicago for almost four years now, I have gone from my somewhat philanthropic youth where I would give change to almost anyone who would ask for it (I once was talked into standing in line with a homeless lady to buy her a sub at Quizno's and then she went nuts with the fixins), to my current state, which is I don't give out anything to anyone. It's not that I am filled with hate and apathy (I am), it's just that between GreenPeace and random street vendors and people asking for money for xyz charity and people asking for volunteers for every political candidate in the city and bums and just random people asking you for stuff, I have shut off giving up my time or money to anyone because I am just numb to it at this point. I know when people are going to approach me to ask me to sign something, or give them money, or stand there awkwardly for ten minutes while they talk to me about how they got to this current state in a lot of vague nearly incomprehensible jibberish or do a song or a rap about the person standing next to me and THEN ask for money. I can see it coming a mile away, and nowadays I do everything I can to avoid this awkward interaction because in general, I am in no financial state to be donating any money anyways. (to redeem myself I will occasionally give people change. On occasion.)

SO, there I am, minding my own, reading The Ultimates, when I see this dude walk in. He's very loud and seems to be talking to every person he happens to run into. He is missing most of his teeth, and the ones that are still hanging around aren't doing too well. His clothes are mostly denim, and they are pretty filthy. I am waiting for the moment that he will come talk to me, because I know from the path he is making from person to person around the restaurant, he will inevitably get to me. I continue to read my comic. But I'm not really reading, I'm looking at the same word bubble over and over again but really keeping aware of where this dude is because I know it is only a matter of time before he approaches. I look up from the page for a moment, and this dude is staring RIGHT AT ME. We lock eyes. I resume reading my comic. He starts his approach.

SHIT, I'm thinking. SHIT. There's no way out of this. I prepare a "Sorry man" or a slight shrug of the shoulders and a turning out my pockets mime. And in all honesty, I don't have a dime on me. I have to pay rent, and I have been refraining from pulling out any cash, and I am down to the wire on finances, I really don't have any money right now that isn't spoken for, I mean I'm eating off the frigging dollar menu at McDonald's right now, but still he walks forward. I can almost hear his steps in echoing BOOMS as he walks up.....BOOM...BOOM....BOOM....BOOM............and goes to talk to the guy behind me. PHEW! I think, well there's one awkward moment I won't be having today. I finish up my food and am about to leave when I hear:

"Excuse me."

FUCKKKKK

"Excuse me."

Maybe he's talking to someone else.

"Excuse me."

I'm just going to get up and take my tray and stroll out, he's not talking to me.

"Excuse me. Excuse me. EXCUSE ME!"

"WHAT?!" I snap and turn around.

.............

"Is that the Ultimates?"

.........."Oh. Um, yes."

"I LOVE THAT COMIC!"

the dude next to him, a CTA employee: "This guy is the Comic KING!"

"Haha, oh yeah, it's pretty awesome. Well, have a good one!"


I walk out of the restaurant. What has this city done to me?

Cats and string cheese: WTF?!

Ok, what is the deal with cats LOVING string cheese? Is it because it's cheese? Is it because it's string? Is the combination of these two characteristics so intense that it blows their little kitty minds?

Our cat, Bowie (pictured above, actually he's Dan's cat and our fourth roommate) can differentiate the sound of string cheese being opened amongst the sound of people talking and a loud action movie being played on some badass speakers. It's like a frigging dinner bell. If I want to know where Bowie is, all I have to do is touch a string cheese wrapper and he will come running out of whatever room he was having a cat nap in. It's ridiculous. I JUST WANT TO EAT STRING CHEESE, CAT! LEAVE ME ALONE!

But that's not the end of it. He may love string cheese like the day is old, but he will try to eat just about anything you have. Salt and Vinegar chips, starbursts; Bowie does not give a FUCK. But he wants whatever it is you are eating.

And if you don't have food, it's like you don't exist. Hey Bowie, I'm a person with feelings and emotions. Just because my other roommate is eating pork chops with mashed potatoes doesn't mean you have to ignore me. You're like a gold digger. Except with food. I'M A MASSAGE THERAPIST! I am awesome at cat scratching. Do I really have to eat string cheese to earn your love?

Apparently I do.

Drinking and seeing theatre: Why you shouldn't do it.

I'm not talking about getting hammered and seeing theatre. I'm talking about having a couple of drinks and then sitting down to see a play, most likely a show that someone you know is involved with, or a show that someone you know is also attending.

The classic scenario: "Ooo, well there is about fifteen minutes before the show starts, I might as well grab a beer before we go in." You know, to loosen up. So as to enjoy the show more. Or something along those lines. But what you should be doing is asking yourself:

1) "Is there an intermission?"

and 2) "When was the last time I went to the bathroom?"

If you DON'T ask yourself these questions, and instead sit down in a theatre, with no noticeable exits or nearby restrooms designated in your mind, and sit and thumb through the program, or talk to a nearby friend, and don't take notice of the time or the fact that the lights are going down to start the show just as you think to yourself, "oh shit I probably should've gone to the bathroom. Hopefully there is an intermission, I can probably hold it", you will suffer the fate I have suffered many times in the past. The fate of the Dude Who Has to Take a Piss For the Entire Duration of a Performance of Live Dramatic Theatre.

This is not a favorable position to be in. There are many factors to consider. First of all, you came to enjoy a theatre performance. Maybe you paid for your tickets. Maybe your best friend is the lead and got you a free ticket. There is probably someone you know here in the audience. Maybe there is someone important! Maybe there is someone there you might be attracted to! Maybe this show will be epic and life changing and you don't want to have to take your eyes away for a second! Maybe this will be the funniest most quotable thing ever and you'll want to remember the good lines so you can quote them later with your friends! You at least want to make sure you have a good grasp of the play so you can discuss it later with other friends and associates, because noone wants to be the guy whose only view of the play was "Dude I had to piss through that entire thing."

But if you are stuck in this position, there is not a whole lot to do. You may be in a small theatre. With no way out. Blocked by actors, or set pieces, or other audience members. And it's not like you can just get up and go to the bathroom in the middle of the show. You may be interrupting a scene! You may be making a noise snapping the actors out of their focus! You may be pissing off other audience members! You can't just get up and leave! The artistic director of the theater is two feet away from you while the guy who wrote it is sitting behind you, your friend is in the middle of their big monologue and everyone else is intently listening to the action of the play, and some dude just walks through the middle of the scene to TAKE A PISS?!?! FOR SHAME!!! You may as well take a big shit in the middle of the space, because everyone will hate you for this act regardless. So you can either look like a big asshole, or suck it up for the next unkown amount of time. In college, I had to get up to take a pee because I couldn't stand it anymore during the mainstage productions of both "How I Learned to Drive" and "Waiting for Godot". There are still people who hate me for this.

So you sit. In agony. And pray for intermission.

And it's not like you're not enjoying the show. It may be a brilliant production. But when your only thought is trying not to remember the lyrics of TLC's "Waterfalls" or not conjure up images of Niagra Falls while sitting in a position that best suppresses the ever increasing pressure on
your bladder while you have your hand on your bag and coat in a braced stance angled toward the door half out of your seat about ready to applaud at every scene transition because you're secretly hoping it's intermission of some sort or the end of the show and you're making faces you hope other people aren't seeing and you're breathing deep diaphragmatic breaths while trying to think of a happy place but only seeing pulsating red and your stomach feels like its going to explode -- it doesn't matter if someone was showing you a secret version of Sin City where Jessica Alba actually got naked in that one scene like she was supposed to, the only thought that will permeate your brain will involve having to take that piss.

Be smart. Go to the bathroom before seeing live theatre.

Girl, I really hope that was a weave.

Last night at approximately 2AM, I decided I would go to Ian's Pizza.

Ian's specializes in putting the most random crap on their pizzas, which makes for a late night awesomeness extravaganza. Their staple is the Macaroni and Cheese Pizza, but I've had breakfast burrito pizza, nachos pizza, hamburger pizza, hot dog pizza, chicken fettuccine alfredo pizza, chicken bacon ranch pizza, lasagna pizza, perogi pizza, Chicken taco pizza, philly cheesesteak pizza, tortellini pizza, BBQ chicken pizza, and many many others.

Because of Ian's Pizza's location in the heart of Wrigleyville, and its nature to stay open past the times bars close, this place will have a line out the door around this time, and this line is usually filled with people who are off their ass drunk, or ready to punch someone in the face, or both. I decided to wait in the huge line.

Around five minutes into the line stretching around the edge of the restaurant, a girl from the line ahead of us came back to talk to a girl right in front of me. The girl stumbled over, looking as though she was pulling at gum in her hair. She also looked like Megan Fox, just a lot drunker.

She kept saying to her friend "how did this get in my hair".... or "who put these in my hair".... and I noticed there were tiny little hair clips clinging to her hair, so I figured she may have had her hair up and been so drunk at this point that she forgot she had them in or how to get them out.

This drunk and whiny exchange went on for a few minutes while the girl's friend valiantly tried to help her get the clips out. All of a sudden I noticed a large clump of this girl's hair fly out and hit the ground. WTF. Her friend quickly grabbed it and stuffed it into her pocket. I heard no mention of a weave, nothing was really said about it, but I found myself looking at this girl's hair and being like, there's no way her normal hair is any shorter than this. Was that a weave??? Or was that her actual hair?? Why is it taking so long to get pizza???

I then wondered how many white girls are walking around Wrigleyville with fakeass hair. And I really hope that was a weave, or a hair extension, which I didn't really see the point of this girl needing either, because if it wasn't, she is going to wake up to realize she blacked out and pulled a large chunk of her hair out while waiting in the gigantic line at Ian's Pizza.

Be careful when hitting "reply all"

So, we are shooting a pickup scene for Funemployed (my webseries -- http://www.funemployedchicago.com) where we are looking for girls to be "arm candy" for a scene where Bill exits a casino after having won a large sum of money. To shorten the emails discussing this search, between the creative team on Funemployed, we just say "hotties". Michael (who directs, writes, and plays 'Jay') sent out an email saying, "we need to look for hotties for the 21st."

To which I responded, "We need a DEFINITE time frame for the hotties and be able to stick to it. Otherwise it will be impossible to get hotties to commit. Lets figure out what that is and stick to it.
-- Ted Evans"

At the same time, a member of the theatre company I am working with on "Jenny and Jenni" sent out an email informing us to contact him to use our complimentary tickets for this upcoming weekend when we open the show. This email went out to everyone in the show, which is about 30 people.

I asked Michael if he saw my email about the hotties time frame situation, and he said no.

...........?

When I looked into it I realized my mistake.

Basically, the email discussion between myself and all 30 people on the email list about the comp tickets went like this:

Factory Theatre: "We have some space available for tomorrow night's OPENING NIGHT GALA and we'd like to offer each of you a ticket for tomorrow night's show/party. Please respond to this email no later than 1pm cst. tomorrow Friday, Nov 12th. Tix are subject to availability so the sooner you get yours in, the better."

Me: "We need a DEFINITE time frame for the hotties and be able to stick to it. Otherwise it will be impossible to get hotties to commit. Lets figure out what that is and stick to it.
-- Ted Evans"

WHY?!

Describing the plots of comics to chicks.

Contrary to popular belief, reading comics in public does not always win over the ladies. However it does weed out all the girls who are not down with zombies or superheroes.

For some reason, while reading comics, I often am asked about what I am reading. Already annoyed by having to tear my eyes from my "adult picture books", I try to sum up whatever I am reading in as short a sentence as possible (after reading this I realize I sound like the comic guy from the simpsons). Describing the plots of comics in detail to chicks often produces a glazed over look in about 30 seconds or less.

"Oh this is called Fables. It's about like every fairytale creature exists in this hidden city in New York. Like Diagon Alley. (get this reference or you suck) They're all centuries old and have united in the city because they had to flee their homelands and now have normal jobs but if they were animals in their original fairy tale story some of them have the ability to look human, so like The Big Bad Wolf is this noir detective named Bigby Wolf and he's a total badass and Prince Charming is a womanizer and Beauty and the Beast are broke and then all sorts of crazy awesome shit happens."

I have never explained Fables in its entirety to a girl who wasn't already into comics.

The problem being that since I have discovered large collections of comic series, I have lost all desire to read normal books, and can often be seen on vehicles of public transportation nerding out at all hours. Y: The Last Man, The Walking Dead, Preacher, 100 Bullets, Fables, Scott Pilgrim, The Losers, Invincible. I have spent hours reading these stories and they are awesome.
Sorry ladies, sorry I am into these insane plot twists and amazing rise and fall of dramatic action combined with compelling characters and hard core drama. Who could resist the intrigue of two superheroes who finally fall in love and bone after something like a couple hundred issues even though it was obvious they should be together from the first one? Or the psychological study of a young boy born into a zombie apocalypse who murders his twin brother because he doesn't understand what death is and has intrinsically turned into a little sociopath? Or the combination of genres blending a story comprised of fantasy, science fiction, romance, comedy, adventure, action, noir, horror, and crime scene investigation into an epic melting pot of awesomeness?

Not me. Not this guy.

So unless you are down with zombies, wizards, superheroes, roller coasters, or other things that are awesome, you need not apply.

Sure ladies, you might say to yourself, "Good. Lord. This guy is such a nerd." And you might be right. But. I also happen to be a dude who is into stuff that rules.

PS I got stabbed

So I was working on a massage client we'll refer to as "this dude". So I find this area of tension on this dude's back. And this dude is like, "Oh yeah, that's the spot that noone can get out, it's always there." So I decide to keep working in the area on this dude's back to see if I can help him out, and then he goes, "Yeah, I got stabbed up on the north side awhile back." And then proceeds to tell me about how he got stabbed up by where some friends of mine live, but luckily was near a hospital. Then this dude says, "Should I have put that on my health form?" YES

Another Elevator Story

So I was getting in an elevator at school, about to enjoy a ride up to the 5th floor alone as the doors closed, when a foot shot out and a white man yelled "HIYAAA!!" in a faux ninja like fashion. Much to my surprise this foot belonged to this dude who I know to be a huge douche. Even douchier: he then explained to me that he teaches martial arts. Like this entitles him to yell hiyaa in everyday situations. The elevator ride was uncomfortable.

Shutter Island BLOWS

Holy hell. Scorcese WTF. I had already declared this movie unnecssary to watch based off of figuring it out in the trailer, but now that my roommates and I have actually watched it, I feel like a jackass for knowing fully well what the plotline would be and being totally right about it. I need to go watch something that doesn't suck ass now.

farting.

The other day I was on an elevator, and decided to wait until the elevator was a floor away from ground level to fart.

2 hot chicks were standing there when the door opened, and they entered the fart filled chamber, clearly created by me.

It was awkward.