trish bendix

Beanbag, beanbag

Posted in Uncategorized by trishbendix on January 7, 2008

I’ve been wanting to see The Diving Bell and the Butterfly for a while now, but made the two bus trip to Landmark to see Juno first a couple of weeks ago. This weekend, I was intent on seeing it, but everyone had the same idea. Before we reached the ticket booth, the 19-year-old holding it down yelled out “Everything is sold out!” authoritatively. I shook my fists to curse those who really came to see Atonement or There Will be Blood but then stole my movie ticket when their first choice was sold out.

Poeta, Jamie and I tried to figure out what would be fun to do instead at 7 p.m. We had a car in Lakeview traffic so this was also a deciding factor. We had already said we’d meet up with Rachel in Andersonville later on, so going back to Wicker Park seemed counteractive. I decided that we should go to a hookah bar. I had never been to one, and Poeta and I had actually once tried to go to one in Evanston when we were 19, but it was filled with Northwestern students and we bailed when there was a waiting time–a waiting time for a hookah bar.

I utilized my Dash to find one on Armitage and Sheffield, where parking would be easier than the other closest option (Belmont and Broadway.) So we went to Ambrosia Cafe, and it was empty except for two tables. Remixes of dance music were playing hokily, and ice skating was on the television, but I was determined to give it a try. I sat next to a mini Christmas tree, and we ordered the White Peach. Poeta was our guide, having been to a hookah bar twice before. We considered her an expert.

The experience was anti-climatic. We sat, we inhaled some tobacco, it faintly tasted of white peach. I seriously couldn’t believe that was it. I felt like I was missing something. Perhaps I would have appreciated it if I were an 18-year-old Depaul student. I was glad to have experienced it, though. Now I know.

Later we met up with Rachel, Kristen, Julie and Amanda’s friend Zibby, who I finally met. We went to T’s, where I warned Poeta softball lesbians would be in droves. Sure enough, Kelly Clarkson was played, girls with ponytails hit us with their pool sticks as we stood by the bar, and there was one person we referred to as Puffy Vest that liked to show off her one dance move and drunkenly hit on everyone in the room. We didn’t stay too long.

Yesterday Kyle brought over the second half of my Christmas gift from Jamie, another typewriter painting! As expected, his was very different from Ryan’s, and I am obsessed with them both. The best part of Kyle’s is that he used real pages from a book, and upon further inspection I could see the title was The Well of Loneliness.

“That’s a lesbian book!” I told him. But he said he didn’t think so–he bought it from a bookstore in Savanna, Illinois and he just knew it was old. I looked it up and I was right. Without knowing, Kyle had given me a lesbian typewriter. It was perfect.

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One Response

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  1. Megan said, on January 7, 2008 at 6:43 pm

    “The Well of Loneliness” I totally thought “LESBIANS!!!” when I saw that too. hahah i love how it was unplanned. I wanted to read that, but I heard it was pretty dry, shrug.


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