Bub's Murtaugh loved sea-food. Lent was a year round feast for Bubs. He ate pickled herring on toast made from good sweet Lithuanian bread for breakfast; fried clams and oysters for lunch in the cab of his Graffiti Busters truck; a snack of perch and slaw after work; and Bubs polished off a whole broiled monkfish with lemon butter in his Mom and Dad's home near Durkin Park in St. Bede's parish.
Last year, Bubs' Dad laid down next to his wife and mother of Bub's in Holy Sepulchre Cemetery on 111th Street in Worth Township. Bubs began seeing a lady. Bubs never had a wonderful sense of sight, but Cupid's arrow struck deeply in some muscle of Murtaugh's anatomy.
Against the canons of morality of Holy Mother Church, Bubs invited the woman to move in with him. The woman in question was of dubious virtue and Bubs had but little himself. She was a drop-out of Emeryk Zajack's Bartender Academy on Archer in Garfield Ridge and worked at the Swap-a-Rama in Alsip, where she met Bubs when he was buying Cook County Campaign Buttons for his collection.
After a few months, the . . . woman with whom Bubs shared his abode became as wearisome as the endless loop of NCIS and Law and Order(Sam Waterson only) reruns on cable. Bubs began stopping 'for a short one' longer and at less familiar venues. Bubs' roomy suspected that her relationship with Mr. Mutaugh might go the way of Emeryck Zajack's Academy for her. Perhaps, Bubs was trading up. Most disconcerting and morally reprehensible, but customary in the no-man's-land of unsanctified concupiscence.
One evening Bubs called home to his paramour and says, "Honey, I have been asked to fly to Canada with my supervisor and several of Toni Preckwinkle's cousins for fishing. We'll be gone for a long weekend.
This is a good opportunity for me to get that promotion I've been wanting so could you please pack enough clothes for a 3 day weekend. Also, would you get out my rod and tackle box from the attic?"
Made sense, Bubs loved his fish and walleye and Northern were always nice.
Bubs asked in the sweetest of tones, "We're leaving at 4:30 PM from the County Yard on Doty and I will swing by the house to pick my things up.. 'Oh! And please pack my new navy blue silk pajamas. Hey, you get to free-range cable all you want and I stocked up on Happy Cossack from Kenwood."
Though enchanted by days of Shopping Networks and Vodka Rickies, the Zajack Bartender Academy Aspirant Emerita thinks this sounds a bit odd, but, being the good "friend," shall we say, she does exactly what the homeowner asked.
Following the long Canadian Idylle Bubs came home a little tired, but, otherwise, looking good. The sore thumbed and vodka marinated Mistress welcomes Bubs home and asks if he caught many fish?
The Cook County Would Be Pensioner says, "Yes! Lots of Walleyes, some Bass, and a few Pike." He said, "But why didn't you pack my new blue silk pajamas like I asked you to do?"
The now home-secure Zajack Academy Washout replies, "I did, they're in your tackle box".
This south side saga originated with Max Weismann of the Center for the Study of Great Ideas
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