The Long-Awaited Conclusion of Blue Monster or How I Stayed Awake for 24 Hours at Chicago Pride
4:00 am Sunday. Pete and I arrived at the L-Train station, ready to take the Red line to the transfer station so we could catch the Blue line to O’Hare Airport. From there, our hotel shuttle would bring us back to the hotel. I was drunk and tired from dancing all night long on Saturday night. Since the ride back to the hotel took about 1.5 hours, I figured I would at least be able to get 2-3 hours of sleep before I had to get up again and catch the Blue line back into Chicago for breakfast with my friends, Trina and Rose.
When we got to the transfer point, there was no train at the station so we figured it would be there momentarily. I sat down on a step in the platform stairwell, leaned up against the hand rail and closed my eyes. “Let me know when the train comes,” I said. I felt as if I was going to pass out at any minute. I think I actually nodded off but not for long. I was woken up by an automated voice from the platform: “The Blue Line is experiencing technical difficulties causing a delay in service. Passengers are encouraged to pursue alternate transportation.”
Alternate transportation? Alternate transportation. I asked Pete if he had heard what I had heard. He nodded in agreement and crossed his arms. “What are we gonna do?” he said. We weighed our options: 1) Wait it out and see if the Blue Line will all of a sudden be fixed. 2) Take a taxi which would be hella expensive. At first, I was just stuck in shock and horror. I couldn’t believe I was stuck in the middle of Chicago! “I’ve gotta get back to the hotel,” Pete kept saying. I decided to wait it out. I closed my eyes again, nodded off, and then woke up again. I groaned, closed my eyes again, and let my head roll down before waking up again with a start. This happened at least fifteen times before I finally jumped up and said “This can not continue. Let’s call a taxi.” Pete said we’d have to leave the train station in order to make the call cuz we were underground and we couldn’t pick up a a signal. I said OK and we followed the tunnels and stairs back up onto the street. I pulled out my cell phone and turned it on. I had to keep it turned off to save the battery power because my battery power level was on low. I called a taxi company and told them where to pick us up. They said it was going to cost $39.00 I said, “Whatever.” When the phone call was over, I looked at the time on my cell phone. It was 4:50 am.
This is ridiculous, I thought. “I’m going to have to go right back out as soon as I get to the hotel,” I told Pete. Then an idea struck me that filled me with excitement and energy. “Let’s just stay up all night!” I said. “I saw an all-night diner back in Boyztown. Let’s just go there and call our friends and tell them to bring our bags in the car when they come to Boyztown for the parade.” I thought the idea was genius! The Red train going back to Boyztown was still running - the Blue Line was the only one having “difficulties.” I’d rather spend $39.00 on coffee than on some stupid taxi. Pete shrugged and said “OK.” So we turned around and went back down into the train station. I was so excited that I forgot to call the taxi company to cancel the cab.
When we got down to the platform, there was a train sitting on the Blue line tracks. It had been fixed. That didn’t change my plans but Pete was very happy. “I wanna go back to the hotel,” he said. I was suddenly filled with anger and resentment because my heart had really been set on staying up all night. For some reason, I had been really jazzed by the idea. So I felt a little betrayed by Pete for making me think he was as jazzed I had been. “Fine,” I said. “Whatever.” We got on the stupid Blue Line.
The ride was very long and Pete and I kept nodding off and waking up on each other’s shoulders. When I’m sleep-deprived, I tend to get really cranky and quick to anger so my resentment grew as the trip home progressed. Plus I think I was beginning to feel a hangover headache which was not helping our mood. When we got back to the airport, I stood up to discover that my foot really hurt. The muscles in my foot seize up sometimes and get really sore as a result of some healing complications that occurred when I broke my foot last summer. So I was cranky, hung over, and in pain. We walked to the shuttle area and waited for our hotel shuttle. At one point we saw the shuttle drive by and stop about 100 yards from us. Apparently, we had been waiting at the wrong stop but we could have easily caught it. We started walking toward it. “You should run to catch it,” I said to Pete. “Yeah, maybe I should,” he said but made no move to hasten his pace. “No,” I said, “I’m serious. I can’t do it, my foot.” I said. I was already limping as it was. But as soon as I said it, the shuttle began driving off. I tried to grit my teeth against the pain and run but it was no use. The shuttle took off. Pete only laughed and I felt made enough at him to become violent.
I had no idea when the shuttle was coming and all I wanted to do was sleep but at that point, I knew that I wouldn’t be at my best when I met with Rose and Trina for breakfast. I decided to call her and cancel. I turned my cell phone on again and it beeped to tell me that the battery was pretty much dead. “Please, just give me this one call, “ I prayed. I called Rose and got her voicemail. It was 6:30 am. I got out the word, “Rose -” before the phone beeped again and died. I wanted to throw it at Pete but I restrained myself and just slumped into a chair to wait for the God forsaken shuttle.
Fifteen LONG minutes later, another shuttle came and brought us back to the hotel. When he got to our room, I was of course missing my room key. I mean, at that point, what else could I expect? Luckily, Pete had one so we averted disaster. But then we got to the door and his key didn’t work at force. He chuckled and his chuckle made me want to put my hand down his throat and pull out his esophagus. When I turned to go back to the front desk, I heard him say “Wait. It’s working now.” Thank God for small favors. We went into the hotel room and had to be quiet because Kam and Jon were sleeping in one of the beds. Pete and I were expected to share the other bed but at that moment, in bed with Pete was the last place I wanted to be. I plugged my cell phone into its charger, grabbed my duffle bag, and went into the bathroom. I showered and changed my clothes in the bathroom and then grabbed my cell phone on my way out. I got back on the hotel shuttle a total of 45 minutes after we had arrived at the hotel. Shuttle to the airport; airport to the Blue line again. I had to take the Blue line until it transferred to the Red line. I was running pretty much on autopilot; everything was a blur to me. I think I listened to music on my iPod along the way. I don’t know. The next thing I really remember was getting off the Red line and turning my phone on again. It had not charged for long so I still had dangerously low battery power. It was 9:40 am. I called Trina and Rose and they agreed to come and pick me up.
Rose and Trina were really great. By the time I got into their Jeep, I was pretty well awake and energetic. I told them about my ordeal with the Blue line, which was in all in all, not so bad but overwhelmingly frustrating at times. We had a good chuckle and we chatted all about old times. I had known the two lesbians since 2002 in Burlington, VT when we were all AmeriCorps*VISTAs. Good times. We ate breakfast at some swanky place in Andersonville, Chicago. They had paid the bill for a meal we shared a few months before so I paid that morning. The bill was $39.00. I figured it was the universe getting me back for not calling to cancel the cab. It was raining slightly when we left the restaurant so they brought me to the store to buy an umbrella. We said our goodbyes and then I left to join my friends back in Boyztown. It was 11:30. The parade started at noon. I felt really awake and ready for the day. My friend, Mr Wilson called me and told me where to meet him and the boyfriend so we could watch the parade together.
On the train, I rain into a guy who told me he had just been hit by a car and he felt like he may have a concussion. “My eyes aren’t dilated, are they?” he pleaded. He said he would have gone to the hospital but he was late already for an appointment. He was disoriented, and frustrated that nothing was moving as fast as it ought to. I thought back to the night before and smiled. Yeah, I thought, I’ve been there before.