Ye Olde Staging Point

So I'm gearing up for another trip to Chicago this weekend. I loathe Chicago for many reasons, one of which is that it has leeched hundreds of dollars out of me in the form of incredibly lame parking tickets. Every so often, the streetsweeper would come by to clean the streets of Hyde Park and restore it to its prestine natural appearance. Allegedly, they give people ample notice to move their cars away from the street-cleaning area before they actually clean it. In reality, I would frequently emerge from my apartment in the morning to see a row of 30 parked cars (including, of course, mine) with $50 tickets on the windshields. That's right--instead of seeing the row of 30 cars and wondering if maybe, just possibly, there might be something wrong with their method of giving people advance notice about the street cleaning (the usual method is to tape a torn piece of paper to a tree somewhere within a 5 mile radius of the street cleaning area), they decide that the only thing that can be done is to issue tickets to all the lawbreakers who are flagrantly flaunting the wheels of justice. I can only hope that the city aldersmen (requirement for being a Chicago aldersman: at least 2 felony convictions) enjoyed the drugs they purchased with my parking ticket money.

And that's not even taking into account the money they make off of freeway tolls. As far as I can tell, only about 1.5 miles of the 90 expressway is actually within the borders of Illinois, but that doesn't stop them from charging $2 to enjoy driving along that stretch of gray, industrial wasteland. My first encounter with the Chicago toll system went like this:

Andy: (squinting to see the toll booth sign through the rain) By all that is holy, I think that sign said that the toll was two dollars. Having driven all over the country and never encountered a toll booth that charged even 25% of that, I can't believe that's right. Well, I'll get out two dollars just in case but I'll ask to make sure that's the right amount.

(stops at toll booth)

Andy: Hi, how much is the toll?

Toll Booth Guy: (glares contemptuously) Two bucks.

Andy: OK, here you go. (hands over two dollar bills)

Toll Booth Guy: (stares angrily, long pause) Hey, if you already had the two bucks, why didn't you just give it to me? How come you asked how much the toll was?

Andy: (awkward pause) Uh, because I wasn't sure how much the toll was.

Toll Booth Guy: (with a disdainful sneer) Yeah, right. (pauses for a few more awkward seconds, then opens the toll gate)

Andy: (drives through)

I'm usually not this vitriolic on Thursday nights. But I got to thinking about Chicago, and... well, that's just never a fun thing.

Now I'm off to finish preparing for tomorrow's D&D session.