Saturday, June 11, 2005

Music, The Uniter ...

Work Pal David and I took a walk over to Blues Fest yesterday. (It was hot. It was humid. It's summer in Chicago, though summer has not yet offically arrived. Which makes people cranky, because who wants a hot, humid spring? But I digress.)

We were standing in line to buy tickets, so we could later exchange them for overpriced food into which workers were most likely sweating. (If I was hot standing in the middle of the street, you can bet that those folks are hot standing over grills and chafing dishes. But I digress again.)

Standing next to the window, waiting for his friend to buying tickets, was a shirtless, well-toned, well-tanned man with a mane of wavy hair held off his face with a headband. (Quiet Riot fan?) I couldn't help but notice that down his left arm, he was sporting a nearly inch-wide scar that had to be at least 9 inches long. (How does one find themselves with an injury that results in a scar that huge?) And then he turned away from the window and I was treated to the finishing touch: he had both his nipples pierced.

Rock on, man.


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