Tuesday, December 04, 2007

From my wanderings

Flats Fixed

1 comment:

JL said...

There was a legendary used tire shop on Chicago Avenue in Wicker Park, which seemed to have a lock on the best-looking, best-built, buffest young Hispanic men ever seen on planet Latin.

They would get all sweaty, and wet over the water tanks, and when their T-shirts got soaked, would ostentatiously peel them off on the sidewalk.

Grease-smeared and in tight jeans, they'd swagger around the place, and the owner couldn't keep the Wicker Park hipster chicks away.

I'm telling you.

I took a friend from Maryland, a radical feminist grad student, over to fix a tire on her Honda Civic that had gotten holed through the sidewall, and when 'Carlos' walked up to her, and asked her what she 'needed', she just...