North Chicago Breakdown
"Sun don't shine on the same dog's ass everyday, but mister,
you ain't seen a ray of light since you got here."
Opal Fleener from the movie Hoosiers © 1986
Directed byDavid Anspaugh
Written by Angelo Pizzo
When I saw the sign that read North Chicago, I knew we were fucked. The sound soming from under the hood sounded like a chicken caught in a tractor's nuts. Young Elvis, my friend and traveling companion who had drifted off into unconscious, recived a sudden right jab from me and woke up singing a They Might Be Giants refrain, "make a little birdhouse in your soul." "Are we out of gas?" "No," I replied, "the car is finished, dead, kaput, ya know historaga. We need to dispose of this vehicle immediately and find a way to Rosemont, Illinois with a quickness." Young Elvis didn't appear like he could move without the proper persuasion, so he bravely elected to stay with the car while I hitched a ride somewhere, anywhere.
Almost immediately a small pickup truck stopped to give me a lift, the door opened as I approached and in I went. The driver, a short, chain smoking Asian man stared straight ahead, almost fearfully, not ever turning to look at me. He sped along very fast not paying attention to me or any of the stoplights. As soon as he picked me up, it seems, he dropped me off at an oasis.
Without so much as a sayanara, he spun the tires and took off. I entered the oasis and headed straight for the restroom to freshen up. Overhead the humm of the flourscent lights was almost deafening. This place wasn't clean but it did have that constant chemical smell. The problem with chemicals is that sometimes they don't mix; that problem became evident soon after I asked the clerk for help and the store cleared.
TO BE CONTINUED