I want thirty minutes of my life back

A friend visiting from out of town insisted that I escort him to Washington Park for an afternoon of prurient pursuits. I suggested a trip to Cahokia Mounds as the only reason to venture into that part of Illinois, but early American-Indian culture held no allure, so....

He wanted to try a Friday night excursion, but I patiently explained no sane white man ventured into Washington Park after sunset unarmed.

We opted for a Saturday afternoon visitation and left our handguns and body armor at home.

First stop was Cheeks. I had forewarned him that the talent level was likely to be substandard even by Washington Park standards, but even I was surprised at how desperate Cheeks has become. I assume now the requirements for employment at Cheeks must be a pulse and a vagina.