I know that most vegetarians get starry-eyed over just the mention of the Chicago Diner, but our dinner there left us feeling most unpleasant. The Escape Goat is a vegetarian, and she was just as noxious as we were. I vow never again to eat seitan. From this day hence it shall be known in my vocabulary as satan. So if I say it in front of anyone who reads this, please don't correct my pronunciation--I intend to align seitan with the ultimate Prince of Darkness.
This red glow is reflective of the turmoil we were experiencing in our stomachs. Do you know those "Just Add Water" toys? They start out as a tiny shape the size of a jelly bean, but when you add water they grow like a tumor and assume a mysterious shape unidentifiable to man? That was what happened with the seitan as it coagulated in our stomachs.
Look at the Mayor slumped over and disheveled as a result of her Chicago Diner experience. After that--we all swore off the diner. I could see the Escape Goat caving in and returning to the diner in the future, but she did comment that they focus too much on the weird fake meats at the expense of the vegetables. Further, they starch everything up by giving you tons of nasty, cakey, rice along with your fake meats. They are very stingy with the delicious vegetables.
Finally, we decided to leave and go to the Mayor's. That was also kind of depressing because she had sort of started packing a few things for her move. That's right--the Mayor will be moving so her upcoming appearances on my blog will be limited. Enjoy all of the Mayor's kindly expressions while you can:
As we buttoned up to go outside the Escape Goat put on a sort of poncho-like garment. You may notice the titular reference to a poncho, so the story is about to take a turn for the worse! Below the Escape Goat prepares to gear up in her coat of many colors. That's right, the Escape Goat and her Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Basically, when we left the vegetarian restaurant we looked exactly like what you would expect to see vacating a place of such category.
The night air was fine, but we were feeling worse for the ware. The Mayor exclaimed that she might collapse, and expressed shock at her extreme and violent reaction to the wretched and vile concoctions the Chicago Diner was serving. She likes to fancy herself a "walking medical miracle," whose resistance is subhuman, yet, even she proved fallible in this instance. Initially, I thought things were so bad that we experienced a mass hallucination of angry and vengeful candy canes. But now that I have sufficiently reviewed the photographs, imagine my pleasure upon realizing that we were--indeed--attacked by vengeful candy canes!
Confusion ensued as we walked the strip. This blurry image is a pretty accurate representation of the mood.
This is first photo of the Escape Goat's amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Unfortunately, this is not the best image, but you can see its shag-like texture groping at her shoulders. This picture was taken as we were walking down the street bitching about how grotesque we felt and feeling sorry for ourselves. Otherwise, the occasion was a happy one, and the Escape Goat was pleased about the finery of the excellent haircut she had just received. Apart from the food induced trauma, the evening had the potential to be a success.
Finally, we were at the Mayor's Clark / Diversy intersection. This is an even better picture of the Escape Goat's poncho. Martha Stewart briefly popularized the poncho (in certain circles) when she finished her prison sentence and was seen leaving the maximum-security facility with a knitted poncho. I have even seen the Minx adorned in such a poncho--and now this! I think the added weight of the poncho did not help the Escape Goat in her already weakened state; below she tosses back her head, cursing the heavens.
Here is an even better shot of the poncho. The Escape Goat looked like Dirty Sanchez himself! She is Dirty Sanchez in a Poncho! The highlight of the evening came after we all parted ways for the night.
We went back the Mayor's place and hung out, but we were feeling terrible from the coagulating satan in our stomachs. After a brief period we decided to call it a night. We left the Mayor's in an ill-humored state of disorientation. I caught the Clark Street bus, and the Escape Goat meandered around confusedly before passing a Trixie and a Chad who jeered at her poncho and shouted, "NICE CAFTAN!" Harassment! That unsolicited comment left her emotionally scarred--I have yet to see her wear the alleged "caftan" since that rueful day! I mean--it was clearly a poncho--but a caftan? When she relayed the story to us the Mayor and I repressed our snickers and offered our undying support, as only good friends can (and then--of course--I blogged about it). The Mayor said, "Caftan! Whatever! That's no caftan. I know what a caftan is--and that...uh...coat?...is no caftan! What do Trixie and Chad know!" So faithful readers beware. If you are prepared to wear a caftan in Lakeview, be prepared for the Trixies and Chads to come out en masse and express intolerance to garments widely accepted at the United Nations and on Star Trek reruns.
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