On Chicago Nightlife

In general, I don't frequent areas of Chicago which are considered dangerous, unless you count trips to Hyde Park. As with living in any urban area though, it's sort of intuitive that you need a little extra vigilance as you go about the city, particularly at night. On the other hand, I've always been pretty laissez-faire about safety precautions. This is probably a product of having lived in suburbia most of my life, and combined with equal parts omnipotence and hubris, I have no qualms about say, running at night along the Lake Shore path.

This morning, for the first time, I felt a little nervous about being a single female in the city. To explain, I had a 6:30 am flight out of O'Hare, heading to JFK for a weekend in NY before trekking home for Christmas. When I booked this flight, my decision was based mostly on price, plus I figured I could make the most of Friday if I landed at 9:30. Now, it takes about an hour and a half on the train to get to O'Hare, plus time to check in and be bored at the gate...I ended up setting my alarm for 2:45 am.

At 3:30 am, I had gotten to the entrance of the station, just as a train screeched away. I silently swore to myself. (If only I hadn't stopped to brush my teeth, if only I'd packed my computer the night before...) This turned out to be a rather costly error. The red line only runs every 20-30 minutes at this time of night, and more irritating, there were 3-4 girls at the other end of the platform screaming and arguing vociferously. One of the girls seemed to be circling another around a bench. I glanced around nervously, eyeing the security guard in the ticket booth.

As the din increased, the security guard ambled over to the other end of the platform to investigate. A train pulled up, but much to my dismay, it was traveling in the wrong direction. A few people got off, craning their necks at the commotion, and one guy exclaimed, "Damn bitches, this silliness has got to stop!" and strolled over to the other end to "help." Shouts of "Bitch!" and "You ain't no sista of mine!" Good god, I thought, it is far too early in the morning for this, and if someone pulls out a gun or something...The clamor was now growing louder, as the group moved up the platform toward me. The Mediator Guy had his arms wrapped around one girl, to pin her arms back, and he was telling her to calm down and go home. Meanwhile, her taunter was yelling "Fuck you! You can suck my titties!" and as she rounded the bend, it was quite clear that you could indeed do this, because she had taken off her shirt and bra. Have I mentioned that it was far too early in the morning for me to handle this?

Luckily, a north-bound train pulled up, and I hastily clambered on. The squabbling sisters got on as well, and the train sat there for another 5 or 10 minutes as the fight continued on the train. Christ. I'm not sure what the end result was, but we finally got going and the fight was definitely a popular subject for the CTA workers on board.

All in all, it was a little more excitement than I'd bargained for. Let's see how the Orange line fares when I fly back through Midway.