Craving An Ecstasy Shake

The Green Element's time has arrived.

The Green Element’s time has arrived.

I follow the El tracks south on Glenwood, and the sun begins to finally beat its summer breast. I see traffic up ahead, then head back east on Devon, then south on Broadway, where the Green Element Resale shop leaves no doubt they are open for business. An elderly couple passes speaking Russian, the man pulling a red metal basket of goods, the lady in a bonnet and carrying her own bag. They stop, then change course into the shadow of the building between them and the sun.

Broadway lacks portable toilets, but no matter. I spy a permanent one with golden arches. The club music literally pumps, no, gushes, reverberates throughout the McDonald’s bathroom. The EDM is loud enough to vibrate every one of my short and curlies. It is so loud in fact I can follow the beat over the roar of the hand dryer. Now I crave a McEcstasy Shake, but no such drink exists, at least not on this menu. I roll on.

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