Why I Can't Wait to Leave This Rat's Nest of a City

The latest in an apparently never-ending series.

Come the night, I like to study with a nightcap. Or seven. Anyway, the problem is that I sometimes go to a certain gay bar, in the hope that I can relax, review my notes, and have a quiet cocktail.

Sadly, no. Philadelphia (the most passive-aggressive city I have ever known) is home to gays that somehow think I would be thrilled to talk to them - notwithstanding that i) my head is buried in a book, ii) these men are walking antiques, and/or iii) my body language is very obviously and eloquently saying "go away."

To no avail. Some choice quotes from tonight's abortive attempt at studying:

"It's like I told my caseworker...."

"My son would love you."

"I don't tell my wife where I drink."

Ugh. Chicago, honey, I'm comin' back to ya!