Pow Wow.

So to get to my parking space every day, I use an alley. By the time I go home for lunch to walk the dog, there's a collection of folks out, congregating along the side of said alley. Now, maybe I'm just blowing smoke here, but there are alot of other places I can think of that would be more pleasant to sit next to than a smelly, hot alley that's littered with flattened rat carcasses as thin as paper, but to each their own.

Occasionally my Homeless Doorman joins them, who recently violated some Silent Code that I thought we had going by asking me for a ride. A ride. In my car. Now I can never talk to him again.

Anyways, I've suddenly noticed that every time I drive past, I get dirty looks from these guys. Like I'm sullying their Chicago Alleyway G8 Summit with my car fumes. You know, as my car goes through the alley. The alley. The alley for cars.

So, I'm sorry, Alley Crew. I'm sorry I use the alley for it's intended purpose. Not nearly as sorry as I am for giving Homeless Doorman a lift the other day, though. Believe me, they don't make a car freshener potent enough for that train wreck.