Last night, I went to Strat’s in Villa Park to meet with a friend of mine. She’s putting together an art book, and she wanted my help to edit and format it.
I should explain that Strat’s is basically a hangout for teenagers, and it’s ‘Fifties-themed, so when I’m there, it feels like I’m living out an episode of HAPPY DAYS. However, most of the action takes place in the parking lot behind the restaurant. This is where everyone likes to party and show off their cars and act like alpha males. The only time they actually walk into the restaurant is when they need another drink.
So, Mari and I were sitting at a table, eating cheese fries and drinking a bunch of Schlitz, talking about the project at hand. Because I knew Strat’s didn’t serve hard liquor, I had a flask in my pocket filled with Stillbrook, and every once in a while I’d sneak off to the bathroom to take a snort. What did I care? It wasn’t like I was driving anywhere. We were going to share a cab back to our respective homes.
Well, at one point Mari pointed behind me and said, “Holy shit!” I turned to see a metric shit-ton of cops outside. Flashing lights and flashlights, everywhere. As it turned out, the idiot alpha males out back decided to figure out who the alpha-alpha male was, and they got into a huge fight. The cops were called, and they came out in force. I had no idea that Villa Park had this many police officers. People were being led away in cuffs.
It was 1:30 at this point. We had called our cab and were just waiting, because Strat’s closes at 2:00. However, the counter girls decided to close up early, and they said we had to leave. I guzzled the remainder of my beer, and we started heading out the door.
Well, there were still cops roaming around all over the place, and that never makes me feel comfortable. That many authority figures in one place makes me nervous, especially since I had a flask in my pocket, and it was at least a quarter-full. If they decided, for shits and giggles, to search us, they would have definitely found it, and it wouldn’t have been very good for my DUI case.
They watched as we stepped out of the restaurant. The manager of the place was about to lock up when, in my desperation to be away from these officers, I said, “Is there anyplace where we can wait around here? A cab’s on its way to pick us up.”
My request must have sounded very reasonable. The manager said, “Well, you can’t sit around out here. The cops’ll ask you to leave. I guess you can wait in here.”
She left the door open and locked the inner door to the restaurant. I’m not sure what the place where we waited is called. It might just be a foyer. I guess people in medieval times would have called it an antechamber. Whatever it’s called, they allowed us to wait between the inner and outer doors. Occasionally the cops would throw us a glance, but they must have deemed us insignificant, as they never approached us.
“I hope the flashing lights don’t scare our cab away,” I said.
Luckily, the cops had arrested everyone they wanted to, and they drove everyone else off the property. Five minutes later, our cab showed up and drove us home, where I finished off my flask and dropped into bed, full of relief.
TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW!
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