Welcome to the South Side

Last night, I was at U.S. Cellular Field (AKA "The Joan") watching the Arizona Diamondbacks pummel the White Sox. Waiting in line for food, the following occurred.

In front of me were two girls (maybe the better word would be proto-women). They might have been 20, but just barely. Girl number 1 is short, with stringy hair the color of nothing. It was not brown and not blond. It was indeterminate. She was wearing a halter top that was too tight and too short for her slightly buldgy size. Girl number 2 had curly brown hair and looked something like Chelsea Clinton circa the impeachment. She had one of those excessively bright smiles in a shade of white not known in nature.

Girl 1: Why do they only have kosher dogs? What's the difference?

Girl 2: It just means they don't have pork. They're all beef.

Girl 1: But I want a hot dog, not a Jew-dog.

Me: Snort, eyes rolling, head shaking.

Apparently, I made enough of a noise or a big enough gesture for Girl 2 to notice. She looked me right in the eye as if to say "Sorry," nodded in the direction of her friend and said "She's an idiot."

At least we agreed on that.

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