Issue 17, April 1998
Jim Graham - Story

Paul is walking down North Michigan Avenue. This is his first time in Chicago and he is rather impressed. The sidewalk is crowded. All the stores seem to be teeming with people flowing in and out of doors. A taxi cab blows its horn at a late model Caddy then abruptly changes lanes cutting off another cab. More horns. This is somewhat overwhelming. It’s not Paxton.

It’s odd that Paul has lived all of his twenty-seven years less than a hundred miles from here. Yet he has never ventured to the city until now. Growing up in a small town, there was hostility and animosity towards that which was urban. Everything that you needed was attainable from right there or from the mall over in the next county. As Paul left high school, a few of his friends left for college and never came back. Most though, stayed put and got what jobs were available. Marriage and kids were next on the agenda. Even his parents said that this was too soon although they got married at seventeen. Paul objected. After all, he had been seeing Jenny since they were sophomores. He is divorced now.

Paul wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t for that contest. Free dinner at the Pump Room, whatever that is. He entered the contest at the cutlery shop at the mall. He was buying a hunting knife. Funny how nobody wanted to come along. The free dinner is for two. Paul reflects how it would have been nice to bring a girlfriend. The problem is that he doesn’t have one and doesn’t know anyone who is available. The more he thinks about it, he finds it difficult to imagine a scenario where he would meet someone. Paul looks around. Beautiful women are seemingly all around. A couple, also in there late twenties exit Crate & Barrel and are walking directly in front of Paul. He watches them. They are arm in arm dressed in what he assumes to be the latest fashion. Paul imagines where they live. He imagines their car and the things that they do for fun. He imagines the sex that they have. He is getting depressed. He decides that he needs a change of scenery. He speeds up his step and moves to the left to pass the couple. He doesn’t hear the man conjuring up a wad of spit from his throat. The woman protests at the ensuing vulgarity. Paul moves along side of the couple. Although he is looking forward, he uses his peripheral vision to get a glimpse of their faces. Just then, the man, not seeing that Paul is beside him, turns his head and spits depositing a large yellowish wad of mucous onto Paul’s sleeve. Unbelieving, Paul sees that the couple stops in their tracks. Their jaws drop. He realizes that what he thought he saw, actually happened. Paul looks down at the wad. He looses step for a moment. He glances up at the couple again. He then turns and continues on not saying a word.