Jonathan Goldman Turns 21!!

The other night Lynx & Crew were out in Wrigleyville celebrating Jonathan’s Goldman’s 21st birthday. We did a mini-barcrawl and it was the second place we stopped that warrants a mention in my chronicles.

Since living in the city, Jonathan Goldman has always wanted to go to Cubby Bear. It’s not my type of place, although it is a staple of Wrigleyville. So we honored his request and when we showed up, this reggae band was playing. There was maybe roughly 30 people there, half of whom I rolled in with. Honey dragged all the girls out to the dance floor, where I got creeped out by guys coming up to us and I headed back to the bar so that I would be left alone.

One minute I’m talking to Kooter Kake and the next I’m talking to a bachelor party. I don’t remember how it started and I couldn’t even tell you what was said, although I did diss the groom-to-be because he was from Michigan and some doofus was a Hoosier. They looked like idiots in these bright red t-shirts which they had specialized for the “Bachelor Party Bar Crawl.” One of the guys, forgot his name, got all up in my space. But it was okay, he was a pretty guy. And that’s when one by one my friends came up to us, saying it was time to go. G-Spot. Once wasn’t enough. Ricky Rousse. Twice wasn’t enough either. When Sloppy Shot came up, I still had half a beer left and I was in the middle of a conversation with a guy.

Sloppy Shot: Come on, we gotta go.
Lynx: I still have to finish my drink. -looks to bachelor party guy-
Sloppy Shot: Is it the only thing that’s keeping you from going to the next bar?
Lynx: …Yes… -meaning no-

And then he took my drink from my hand and finished my beer! And then he basically dragged me out of Cubby Bear! I didn’t even wait til we had turned the corner (Cubby Bear stands on the corner of Clark and Addison) before I started yelling.

Lynx: Why the fuck did you do that?!
Sloppy Shot: You were talking to douchebags!
Lynx: AND THAT’S A REASON TO COCKBLOCK ME??
Sloppy Shot: Uh…they were douchebags…that should be enough reason.
Lynx: But that’s perfect! They don’t want to stay til the morning!

I kept yelling as we crossed the street. I was still yelling when we came to Goose Island and discovered it was closed. I didn’t care who heard, the hobos or the skanks or the bros, anyone and everyone on Clark Street heard that I had been cockblocked. It escalated when we went into Mullen’s. G-Spot and Ricky Rousse cornered me to calm me down. At least I think it was Ricky Rousse? It may have been Boomp.

G-Spot: Would you rather have fun with your friends or have sex with a douchebag?
Lynx: …Yeah I choose sex.
Boomp/Ricky Rousse: But it’s Jonathan Goldman’s birthday. Don’t you want to be there for him?
Lynx: But it was a fucking bachelor party!

Let me first of all say, I fucking love Jonathan Goldman like I love Tucker Max. Jonathan Goldman is like a god in my eyes. I was just Hurricane Bitch out of control. Of course Jonathan Goldman & Crew are more important than random ass with a stranger who went to Mizzou! But my poor vag, they all had someone to go home to! After Mullen’s we stopped at Taco Bell for drunk munchies. On our way out, I saw the bachelor party come in. My ire was reawakened. Hurricane Bitch came out and Ricky Rousse and I got into a physical altercation back at Jonathan Goldman’s apartment. Lesson here? They obviously didn’t pay attention to Scruffelhauser’s words “You don’t want to get in Lynx’s way when she wants to get laid.”

Night Out with Hoosiers

January 2009

K-Ho and I were at JLo’s drinking when his roommate E and his entourage came in from having a fancy dinner for E’s birthday. I happened to notice this tall guy walking into the bathroom, I would later be introduced to him and his name was Kreepster. He left the door open and leaned over the toilet, spitting out clumpy black stuff. We were disgusted not only because he did this with the door open, but he also got it all over the toilet seat! I had no idea what this shit was until K-Ho and JLo told me the guy was chewing (tobacco).   

JLo, K-Ho, myself, and JLo’s other female friend decided to head out to Barleycorn. JLo was a pimp walking in there with 3 lovely ladies. There were a lot of good looking guys there but it sucked because a lot of them were either gay or with an ugly chick. So I sat there just admiring this gay guy standing by our table, wishing there was something I could do make him straight.

We met up with E and his entourage at Nick’s Uptown for afterhours. We got to know the people a tad better. For instance, they were going all out on these energy kickers and said weird Hoosier stuff like “Let’s rage!” I felt like they were invading Chicago. I mean come on, that’s sad, they’re from Indiana. Should we be letting this happen?

One of the guys, Lumberjack, was hard for K-Ho. I can’t say that I talked to him at all, but something was bothering me about him. So I made sure that I consciously turned on my cockblock switch. He would be a sorry man if he pushed me. I tried to tell her that she had beer goggles on. She wasn’t very happy to hear that, and was even less happy when I showed her the text I was sending to Honey: “K-Ho has beer goggles on and I can’t stop her!” I even said something to JLo about the situation, since he was also looking out for her.

E comes up to me, trying to help his buddy Lumberjack out. But I’m relentless. Even if you think you’ve sidetracked me or thrown me off a scent, I come back with triple the zeal. So E says to me, “Look at them. They’re in love. Just let them be, it’s a beautiful thing.” We were both pretty drunk, him more than I, so we kept arguing over whether Lumberjack and K-Ho were in love or not.

I somehow got stuck talking to the Kreepster (tobacco chewer). I had heard stories about him from JLo and E, but I didn’t really know what to expect. K-Ho sent me a text asking if I thought Kreepster was attractive or someone I would make out with. I said no and then she texted me back with, “Not even drunk?” I looked at the Kreepster again and considered it. I’m drunk. If I were more drunk would I be attracted to him? I texted back to K-Ho, “Okay fine.”

Later, the Kreepster came up to me with a cigarette. I don’t smoke really, but I decided to be nice and accept the cig. We went outside to smoke. I found out that he was an accountant and I laughed to myself. I have an affinity for business types (Leo= marketing/sales, Langdon= financial advisor). The Kreepster gained bonus points for expressing an interest in tax law. I encouraged him to go to law school (I do that to everyone I come across, since I also want to go to law school). He didn’t lose any points for saying that he didn’t want to do more school.

The Kreepster then asked if I was sleeping over at E’s. I immediately knew where this conversation would go if I let it, so I nipped it in the bud. I didn’t want to crash at Kreepster’s for a romp, so I didn’t even give him the opportunity to offer.

Kreepster: “So are you staying at E’s?”
Lynx: “Yeah.”
Kreepster: “It’s going to be packed-”
Lynx: “Well I don’t care, I even have a bed!”

We got back to JLo and E’s apartment around 5 AM. All the places for drunk munchies were closed. I took it upon myself to raid their fridge. They didn’t have much to work with, but K-Ho and I started drunk cooking eggs, toast, and hot dogs. The eggs and the hot dogs turned out okay. My eggs were shitty and I was afraid that I was going to burn the building down. I kept having problems with the toast. No matter how many minutes I put it on (they only had a toaster oven), it would not become toast! One of the guys in the entourage came over to take a look at what was wrong, it turns out the toaster oven wasn’t even plugged in.

As we were finishing up in the kitchen, the entourage filtered in. I then heard,

Guy: “Why did you sleep with his ex-girlfriend? He would never do that to you.”
Girl: “Why are we talking about this, it’s so uncomfortable.”

From what I could understand, they were talking about Lumberjack. K-Ho and I went into JLo’s room to sleep and Lumberjack followed us, trying to clear himself. K-Ho had not heard what had been said. It was almost 6 AM, I was tired and this random guy was in my way of sleeping. I couldn’t tell if K-Ho really wanted to talk to him more or if she would just go along with it to be nice, so I turned to him and said not too nicely, “I’m passing out. If you guys want to talk, could you leave the room and do it.” K-Ho declined to talk, the guy left, and we went to bed.

During this time, we weren’t aware that JLo left the apartment for us to burn down with our drunk cooking. He was so hopped up on energy kickers that he left and went to Dunkin’ Donuts where he witnessed an altercation involving hobos.

JLo: “Ya I was there and a hobo inside was fighting for a free coffee refill. He turned to me and yelled at me for money and I thought I was going to get stabbed, so I told him I’d invest in his thirst but not his warmth, so I got him an iced coffee.”

There you have it. Hobos are dangerous in Chicago. They may not go up to you in a drive-thru like in St. Louis and swear by their momma they’re not going to harm you, but the hobos are going after our apple fritters dammit!! When will it end??

Spit or Swallow

June 2008

I was at Red Ivy in Wrigleyville during the second crosstown game between the White Sox and the Cubs. At least I think it was the crosstown game. I just remember gazing across the street at the guys inside Barleycorn and being amazed that there were so many hot male White Sox fans. I also wondered why the hell I was stuck at Red Ivy with none of them in tow.

I don’t remember how the subject of spitting or swallowing came up at the dinner table. Eugene, this guy I was hanging out with made some offhand comment about how it didn’t matter to him whether a girl spit or swallowed when giving a blowjob. I got a little angry because he was being a pussy and was trying to tell me what he thought a girl wanted to hear. I’m not dumb, I know what guys prefer. Hell, I even prefer it myself. So I corrected him and said, “That’s ridiculous. Of course it matters! If I were a guy, that bitch sucking my cock is going to fucking swallow!”

I whipped out my phone and texted 3 or 4 of my good friends: G-Spot, Sloppy Shot, Junior, and Vasili. I asked them what their preference was and if it made a difference. One by one, they all answered like I knew they would (because they’re REAL men), and that answer was SWALLOW. But it wasn’t enough for Eugene. He not only did not believe me, a girl who was one of the guys, he also did not believe my friends WHO WERE GUYS. He went through his phone, trying to find friends he could ask about spitting and swallowing, “I have to be careful who I text because most of my friends are married and this could go bad with the wife.”

LAME. But what did his friends answer? Swallowing of course.

G-Spot texted me back saying “FRIENDSHIP OVER!” I called him and we got to conversing in the middle of my dinner date. Here’s the gist of our conversation:

G-Spot: “Why would you ask such a stupid question? You should know this answer!”
Lynx: “I know the fucking answer but this guy I’m having dinner with actually questioned me on swallowing.”
G-Spot: “I don’t think he can handle you!”
Lynx: “I know he can’t handle me!”
Eugene: “Are you talking about me on the phone, with me next to you??”
Lynx: -ignoring Eugene- “He’s got no chance at all!”

Eugene would later go on to tell me that he liked me. Unfortunately for him, when he said he preferred spitting, whatever minuscule hope there was of us dating was gone. This is a mistake many guys make. They’re fooled by the illusion of my breasts. Perhaps even the feminine scent of my perfume. Just because I have mammary glands and a uterus does not automatically mean I am in the Spitting Camp.

"I’m Going Home With A Business Card Tonight"

Me and K-Ho, whenever we go beach bumming at North Avenue, we always hit up the bars in Wrigleyville. This particular day/night we had been running into beautiful boys everywhere. I can only speak for myself, but I know that my vag was going fucking crazy.

We were walking down Clark Street trying to decide what bar we wanted to go to. We were standing on a corner across the street from Purgatory (a pizza place) when K-Ho bumped into some guys she knew from high school. Very cute, introductions were made, but they were in a hurry so they left. Left to our own devices again, we chose to get our drink on at Barleycorn. For future reference, Barleycorn has always been my personal favorite place to go when in Wrigleyville.

We chilled at Barleycorn for a drink or two. Decided we want to barhop some more. I suggested Sluggers and then we got moving. For those of you who know the bars in Wrigleyville, you know that Sluggers is like twenty steps away from Barleycorn, it’s 2 bars over. Well we were crossing the street to get to Sluggers, when a group of guys were walking towards us from the opposite direction. One random kid asked for a high five and I was drunk enough to give it to him. Another random guy then asked for a high five, so what do I do? I give him a drunk high five and keep going on my way.

Guy: “Ouch, that hurt, Lynx!”
Lynx: “What did you say?”

It wasn’t until I had already reached the corner of Sluggers that I realized that my name had been said. The guy had also reached the other opposite corner where I was coming from. I turned around and stared at the guy, he hadn’t looked familiar when I gave him the high five.

Guy: “That hurt, Lynx.”
Lynx: -very confused- “Do I know you?”
Guy: “Yes you do, it’s Dan —–Ski.”

I walked back over to where Dan and his buddy were standing. Dan —-Ski proceeded to tell me where he knew me from, but I was so busy trying to remember the name, that I didn’t hear where I was supposed to know him from. I still can’t remember his last name except that it ended in -Ski. Which in Polish Chicago, there are a lot of -Skis! I looked at his friend wondering if I had also met Dan’s friend before. His friend actually did look similar to someone I had once met at a fraternity house, so I thought perhaps that’s how I had met Dan. But something was wrong. I had never met Dan before in my life.

Lynx: “Don’t fuck with me, how do you know my name?”
Dan: “I overheard you introduce yourself on the street earlier.”

Oh. My. God! That had been an hour ago! Dan was referring to when me and K-Ho ran into people from her high school. And this guy remembered some random girl’s name he had overheard in the street?? That’s creepy!

But what does drunk Natty do? “I think you should buy me a drink for scaring me.” And then we were off. They wanted to go to a bar a couple blocks away (I think the name of the bar is The Yard, off the corner of Sheffield and Clark), and I made sure to ask them “This isn’t going to be a dark alley is it?”

I also found out that Dan’s friend, MT, was a history professor at DePaul. I got a little bitchy when I heard DePaul, because I had received a rejection letter from their law school and the subject was a little sore with me. MT was a little taken aback by my sudden change in attitude, so I told him about the law school. MT offered to write me a recommendation, which I guess is a nice gesture for a really drunk girl. I didn’t accept because that would have been way too creepy. He did offer to give me his business card at the end of the night. I started laughing and said “I’m going home with a business card tonight!” When you know I totally wanted something else. Perhaps that was one of many signs I missed.

Anyway so the guys buy me and K-Ho two rounds of drinks. I thought everything was going fine. We were laughing and talking. I did go on a Fukudome rant (I prefer the White Sox over the Cubs), “He knows what he did wrong!!” And I believe that I did refer to our gentlemen as “Wrinkly Old Balls” because they were both 32 and they definitely didn’t look like it. Having dated a few older men and having older guys as good friends, that was how we always interacted. I guess these older men were not used to that joking treatment.

We had been standing the entire time we were at The Yard. I noticed a table opened up and said we should take it. So me and K-Ho went to sit down. Upon sitting down I realized that neither Dan or MT had followed us. I looked back to where we were standing, MT already gone from my sight, I saw Dan taking one last look at us before he also disappeared. I thought it was strange.

Lynx: “Are they coming?”
K-Ho: “They should be.”
Lynx: “Did they say anything to you?”
K-Ho: “Nope.”
Lynx: “Should I go after them?”
K-Ho: “Sure, but I wouldn’t put that much effort into it.”

I went downstairs to see if they were in the bathroom. No sign of Dan or MT. I came back upstairs and did a quick scan (The Yard is a small bar), didn’t see them. I stepped outside and looked down the street. Nothing. I then asked the bouncer if he had seen two tall males in black shirts leave. He had not.

Did this really happen? Seriously? Did 2 guys just leave me and K-Ho at the bar? DID THEY JUST LEAVE 2 HOT GIRLS AT THE BAR??? It made no sense to me! If it had just been me and they left, I was more willing to accept that as a reality. I’m a little too fesity for my own good. I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. But despite me, I could not believe that would just leave K-Ho either. She is a way nicer version of me!

The next day, I googled MT. And before you get all “YOU’RE A CREEPER!!” on me, I’ll have you know that MT did tell me to google him because I didn’t believe he was actually a professor. So he was on the DePaul website but since he was adjunct, contact info is optional and he opted not to have it on the website. I pondered whether to leave my search now. I had a couple friends that went to DePaul for undergrad, I could have had them hop onto their netowrk and act like they were registering for one of his classes to get his email that way. What would I have done with this email? I seriously just wanted to know why they left without saying a word!

My lesson to you from this story is this: Any other creeper girl would have taken advantage of having DePaul friends and they would have hunted MT down and sat in on a class or called his office number and acted like she had not been left at the bar. But I am no such girl, which is why I was content with having a wounded ego.