Chili mayhem.

Whenever I was telling people that I was going to Milwaukee for a summer Latin program that used to be in Rome, people would usually make a wry face and say some bullshit like, "I'm sorry," to which I'd always say that Milwaukee was a great, unique city, and that I'd always wanted to live there for a bit, and I was welcoming the chance.

"Like what does Milwaukee have that Rome doesn't?", people would usually be like, and then I'd say something about the late-night chili places that stay open after the bars close.

"Does Rome have that?", I'd be like, and then I'd tell them that Rome was the worse for it, and could learn a thing or two from Milwaukee.

Anyhow, I've learned a few things going to the chili place.

One time when I dropped in after barhopping to get a chili dog, the counterguy was chatty - this 19yo (white) kid who'd been drinking since he was 12 -- and I asked him if he ever had any trouble with people throwing up in the chili place.

"No," he was like, "If someone looks like they're going to throw up, I tell them that they look like they need some air, and they usually go outside."

He did then tell me, though, about this like 6'5" freshman volleyball player who the 1st week of school last year had been drinking with her teammates for the 1st time ever, and she was sitting on one of the stools by the counter and passed out, and she fell backwards and almost hit her head on the radiator on the back wall, she was so tall... Her head visibly bounced up like 6 inches, I guess, and she was out cold for like 20 seconds, but then she got up and thought she had just fallen, she never realized she passed out.

"Did you call the ambulance or something?", I was like.

"No," he said, "I made her and her teammates leave. I guess she's all right, I still see her walking around campus sometimes."

He also then told me about this late night drunken cracker fight among college kids that ended with someone finishing their meal and saying bye to everyone and walking out the door, and someone picking up a bowl of oyster crackers and whipping it through the big plate glass window in front.

"It cost $2000," he was like. "We traced him through his Marquette cash account, and his parents ended up writing us a big fat check to replace it."

He also says that all the drunk sorority girls lean over the counter and squeeze their tits together and talk to him real nice to try to get free chili off of him, and then "They hit on some poor saps to buy them some chili and they promise them the world, and then when it comes time to leave they just say bye."

Anyhow, the other night I was there again with my one Canadian roommate, and there was a different (white) counterkid working, and we came in mid-story...

"...so they were throwing oyster crackers everywhere, and I said, give me fifty bucks, or I'll call the police and you'll have to pay four-hundred, so the guy gave me that, and I made him leave, and when I threw some crackers at him on the way out, he got all pissed and was like, 'What, you can throw crackers at me, and I can't throw crackers at you?', and I was like, 'Uh, yeah, that's right, now get the *fuck* out of my chili store.'... I was really drunk that night..."