Back Into the Fray

I went out for Ethiopian food with the Lunch Crew from work and J.'s roommate Carrie. I really enjoyed it, although it is like Indian food for me in that I can already tell that I probably would not be able to eat it all the time. D. apparently eats Ethiopian a couple of times a week, but he has some of the more unusual eating habits I've seen.

I had a couple of Red Stripes at dinner and was feeling frisky. After dinner I meet up with Effect and we go out to Clarkes, where I inform him of my 10 year goal of becoming a millionaire. We then brainstorm about another possible business venture, a 'pivot girls' service - sort of like a non sexual escort service for guys who need social proof in the bars. I will write more about this when we hammer some stuff out further. It may not fly. There are no pivotgirls service in the Chicago area, but I know they exist in other parts of the country. We did the math, and even at $50 bucks an hour, there is potential to greatly supplement my monthly salary and provide a nice cushion for me to invest in real estate and stocks. Best of all, the business would involve things that I love - bars and clubs, women, and the game. Hopefully this pans out but, you know, I will keep plugging away at this 10 year goal of becoming a millionaire regardless.

Afterwards we picked up the Photographer, who is housesitting for this dude in the DePaul area. Apparently all of Effect's stories are starting to rub off and the Photographer is becoming more and more interested in the game. We drive out to the old reliable Wicker Park and hit Jazz Night at Rodan. Again, it is a sausage fest but there are workable sets there. We hang out for a little while and I get in one set - some redhead girl in a sixties mod dress. This was my first set since my emotional breakdown last weekend and I was a little nervous. I could feel my knees shaking a little. She was ice cold too. She shook my hand and was pretty friendly but in the end she blew me out to talk to her friend. Whatevah.

Afterwards we go for the 2 dollar specials at Sheffields, which the Photographer has been hanging out in quite frequently lately in order to accidentally run into this girl he shared a cab with but did not get a phone number from a couple of weeks ago. There are no sets at Sheffields, we sit there sipping out beers and talking about punk rock music for a little while. On the way out I wind up getting another set in: Some HB7 brunette opera singer from NYC, we bonded about the East Village and I started riffing on the homeless cats routine. I merged the Photographer into the set and even tried to close by inviting her to a party. This was semi rude of me because she was there with some guy - this weird looking guy wearing a green spikey wig, I don't know what that was about, but he started getting a little anxious looking when it was obvious that I was blowing him out. I think if I saw this girl when she was not out on a date I could have closed her. Who knows.

I have been doing a lot of work lately around the house - just totally cleaning everything out and getting my financial records sorted out and entered into this financial software I downloaded. I spent practically all last weekend doing this, it's starting to look pretty cool. I threw out a ton of junk and gave away a lot of old clothes to the Salvation Army. I have an appointment tonight after work to check out this filing cabinet I might buy from someone on craigslist. I also have a maid coming in this weekend to scrub the place down. My mind feels a bit clearer.

227 approaches