I woke up a different man. I'm Frank Ballinger - M Squad. M stands for Metamorphosis. This is Chicago -my kind of town.
I went to bed Pat Hickey and woke up Frank Ballinger. Yeah, I woke him up. He was staying with me. That's how come I woke up a different man. See?
Maybe it was being in the Flatiron District, - Bucktown, of Chicago - you know the concrete streets packed with guys wearing sandals, cotton strides, goatees and straw fedoras, all looking for that next kick whether to themselves or the old guy in chinos, Thomm McCann's and really bad mood. All the female talent he pipes on cool April sidewalks and cooing from the open-air gin mills on Milwaukee Ave. are tattooed and pieced and maybe that sets his V-8 in neutral and over-works the radiator. . .I don't know. Maybe, it was the fact that he had to wait for the lady with the baby smooth skin and that frame that could lure Thomas Merton out of monk convention in Tibet. Maybe.
Yeah, that might have it.
No, the fact is that he knew he'd been made an A Number One chump not eight hours ago.
Yeah, me. Patrick Francis Thomas Aquinas Hickey - Chump Gold Card Member. That's who hit the sack last night anyway. He'd pieced together all the clues. He'd been set up by "Drew." Yeah, me. Mr. Street Wise - not the fine $2 paper sold by members of Chicago's Homeless Community, no not that Street Wise -got taken by a thirty something hipster and his late model black Chrysler SUV plate number Illinois R 64-3592.
I was parked in the 1800 block of West North Avenue - the pathway to hip and the playground to the cool. My turf is square. This turf is triangular and a square within a triangle is trapped - like this: That's me N and B is some other guy out of his element. N is me on North Ave. between Honore and Walcott.
I'm parked, like I said, on North Ave . . .the 1800 block of West North Avenue . . .what am I boring you, Princess? Yeah, I guess I am at that.
I had business with a lady on the south side of North and that's none of your business. Business was good. Me? Not so much.
I'm parked like I said. When business is over I walk the chic chick to her car parked on Hermitage just north of North Avenue. When business is over and I shed myself of the heart breaker and her pleas for me to stay just bit more, I hike it back to North Avenue where I'm parked and my ticket has time to spare on my dash board so I don't need to pay Mayor Coon Eyes any more of my earned loot.
I have less than a foot or so to back up, because a late model black Chrysler SUV has insinuated itself dangerously close to the bumper of my 2008 grey Malibu. There's room to spare ahead of me and I have been know around the south side as ONE SWING MAN adept. I eased back, nevertheless erring on the side of caution . . ., when shouts of " How does this????" interrupted by bangs on the passenger side of my blitz interrupts my maneuver.
" Hey, Man! You hit my car! Don't even think about leaving!"
Never crossed my mind. I slide out and assess. There is damage to SUV, but nothing to show from the laws of physics on my coupe.
" We better exchange information," shouts the tall, handsome thirty-something who claims to have been on the sidewalk of 1800 W. North Ave. he had golden Lab in the back of the late model black Chrysler SUV plate number R 64-3594.
I gave the tall guy my license and insurance card. He I-phone snapped pictures of both and handed them back to me. I asked for his information and he said, that his name was " Drew!" He got in his SUV and drove off.
Yeah, that stuff dripping from my whiskers comes from chickens. Some chump. " Wait," I shouted like the grammar school class twerp who has had his Harry Potter magician hat grabbed by the regular guys and thinks that " Give it Back!" will solve any unhappiness. Yeah.
Pat Hickey went to bed and woke up Frank Ballinger. Frank Ballinger ain't happy. Frank Ballinger will check in with CPD District 14 about the events on the 1800 block of west North Avenue at approximately 6:45 PM.