Sean Redmond

"I don’t think there’s any bars farther down here."

The guy is big, maybe mid-twenties with close-cropped hair and a big red Cardinals T-shirt. His friend reps the hometown crowd, a blue 34 sprawled across his shoulder blades, above which reads W-O-O-D. It’s only an hour before game time—or still an entire hour, depending on how you look at it—and fans are anxiously eating, drinking and generally being merry at the Taco Bell on Addison, just west of the corner at Clark. Outside, the restaurant’s sign beckons fans from the streetside, a large plastic Cubs cap hanging off the top corner. Inside, brothers, sisters, husbands and wives, fathers, sons and drinking buddies are gathered at tables, eagerly scarfing down burritos while Kelly Clarkson blares out over the restaurant’s loudspeakers, providing a fresh reminder that hipsters aren’t the only ones who like to get down to some good Top 40 radio. Meanwhile, Wood and his St. Louis buddy have given up on their search for more beer and make a beeline for the "Mexican" joint’s restrooms, the Cards fan venting his frustration along the way.

"Man," he half-shouts to his compadre beside him, "I don’t know what your friend is talking about." The two disappear behind the bathroom door.

Across the street, the McDonald’s parking lot is already close to capacity, providing a harbor for game-goers to host their trucks and SUVs while they’re busy watching the innings unfold. Cars are pressed fender-to-fender, to the point where it’s difficult to find a passable path to walk through them. Miller Lite cans take cover from watchful eyes in the shadows of rear bumpers. Souvenir stands line the outer edges, and a WGN Radio 720 van looms up over the tops of the automobiles, broadcasting the game across the airwaves. Aside from a few groups hanging out, chatting and drinking out of all-too-conspicuous plastic cups, the lot is devoid of human life. Only the metallic structures lined up in haphazard rows, windshields branching out in all different directions, make up the inhabitants of this asphalt plain.

That said, it’s easy to miss the lone man reclining against the back of an ATM, tucked away along the edge of the lot’s outer rim. He sits eating his sandwich and reading the day’s Trib; behind him, a forty-ounce Bud Light peeps out of a crumpled paper bag. His name? Mike Addimando, and he’s one part of the seven-member squad responsible for guiding in cars and making sure they get a nice place to park. Normally he works maintenance at the McDonald’s on Ashland and Diversey, but during the baseball season he does double duty working every home game here in Wrigleyville—a job he’s held down for quite some time. "I know it’s been years," he acknowledges, "but I don’t know how many."

Regarding parking, Addimando explains that ordinary spots cost $20; "easy out" spaces facing the exits, $30. The lot normally holds about 200 cars, but for today’s game Roadway Transportation is hosting a customer-appreciation event on one side, cutting parking space by half. Highlights from that side of the lot include a raffle and a performance by Bob Bowman, a nationally renowned caricaturist.

As the McDonald’s employees wave in a Mercedes SL 55 to take the last open spot, two issues become glaringly apparent. First off, what happens to cars that are in the lot once they start using it for stadium parking? The answer is straightforward enough—they try and find the car’s owner inside the restaurant, and if they are unable to, the car gets towed. OK, how do the cars manage to get out of the labyrinthine spiderweb they’ve been tangled into once the game comes to an end? In this case, the answer’s a simple, if not necessarily likeable one—they wait. "After the game is over, they leave on their own," Addimando explains. "We don’t stay to help ‘em out."

Leaving the McDonald’s at around 3:45pm, the game just starting after extensive rain delays, a pair of patrons stand flustered outside the restaurant’s entrance—one of whom is Mr. Bowman, whose performance has recently ended. Apparently the two didn’t realize that when they parked in the lot their cars would get trapped inside, and are none too pleased at their inability to exit the grounds.

"They told us we could get out!" he shouts angrily. "I’ve never in twenty-five years run into something as stupid as this!" A few McDonald’s employees come by attempting to defuse the situation, but Bowman will hear nothing of it. One of the men simply scoffs and shakes his head.

"Should’ve spent the ten dollars and bought an ‘easy out,’" he mutters as the trio, hands up in helpless defeat, walks away.

(2007-08-21)

Also by Sean Redmond

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The Field Museum expands its already impressive Native American collection with a special showcase on the Crow people, a group that originated in the Ohio Valley before joining with the Hidatsa tribe along the Missouri River
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This is TransVision 2007, where transhumanists the world over gather to discuss issues such as immortality, space colonization and the emergence of the post-human
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Tip of the Wee
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Filibusting
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Tip of the Week
(2007-07-02)

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