When I was in Atlanta last year, I met a bear named Scott at a pool party. By fate, we were both sharing a hot tub together. We got to chatting and found out that we knew this
blogger in common. We kept in touch via email, text, and FB. Last month, he asked if I wanted to come up to Chicago for Market Days. In a spontaneous decision, I said "Sure... why not?"
In Chicago, I settled down in a three bedroom apartment where I met Scott's boyfriend Craig and his other friends all staying at the same place. All were typical big city fags... flashy, flamboyant, and fierce each in their own way. Scott made sure we were all well-fed each morning. He cooked me the most fabulous breakfast burrito! Mmm...
They were instantly drawn to my distinct southern accent. It amused them. As we southerners are often subjected to, I was asked to pronouce certain words. They would fall out of their chairs laughing. Honestly, it didn't offend me. I couldn't help but think how dreadfully boring the Midwestern accent is. It's ordinary... bereft of emotion. Poor Midwesterners. So common art thou.
Surprisingly, I was not high maintenance to my hosts. I spent a good chunk of time with others like Bill (above). We were introduced via FB through our mutual friend Chad. He was easy going and very pleasant to hang out with. We enjoyed spending many hours together at Sidetracks (showtunes) and Roscoes.
The biggest surprise of the weekend was how much time I spent hanging with my buddy "MP". Even though MP lives in New Orleans, we hangout only sparingly. In a far away Yankee city, we went to the gym daily, hung out with Bill, and even ate together at Chipotle Mexican Grill. My fondest moment together was when we were mutually texting a shit-stirring buddy of mine named Scott.
This is me and MP:
I was happy I made the decision to go to Chicago. I met a lot of friendly people during the trip... especially a special someone. ;)