Hello. Welcome to my website. It started while I was in Europe for a semester, and I've kept it up since then. I'm now at the University of Chicago Law School, living in Hyde Park, and the story continues. If you want to say hi or visit me, email cfloyd at uchicago dot edu.
"Life is nothing if not the sum of your anecdotes." -Scotty The Body, on storytelling "But it ain't that bad, man. Just figure out the system before the system figures out you." -T. Matthew Smith, on the 1L year "The beer just doesn't taste as good when you're not drinking it with your buddies." -Anon., on being away from good friends "Somebody has to pay the rent around here. Why the hell not us?" -Cotton, on studying for exams
8/16/2004
I haven't posted about food in a while, but I have to mention a sandwich I had today. The judge's chambers went to a place called Impressions in downtown Tulsa. I considered the prime rib sandwich but decided on the turkey club. Decided on the turkey club, that is, until I passed the huge steaming prime rib roast sitting out so all could see. Juicy, marbled, bloody rare prime rib, just waiting to be cut into thick slices. Screw the turkey club, I had to have beef. The sandwich was simple: just slabs of the prime rib on toasted french bread, and fresh horseradish on the side. Gorgeous. This sandwich was to an Arby's roast beef as Arnold Schwarzenegger is to Jean Claude Van Dame: a beacon of truth in a world of pale shadows. I covered it in horseradish, to complement but not overpower the beef, and dug in. It was the sort of sandwich you wish would go on forever, much like Heidi Klum's turn on the runway at the Victoria's Secret "fashion" shows.
Speaking of fashion, I had a little slip today passing through Utica Square. The metrosexual marketing our culture bombards us 18-30-yr-old males with, finally broke through for just a bit. Rolling by the store, I couldn't help but drop into Banana Republic to try on a blazer. Yeah, the brown pin-striped one in the window. I don't watch Queer Eye but it's the sort of thing I imagine they like to drape web designers in. I got some little dude who I guess manages the place to help me out with it. I started with the 42R. Tight in the shoulders. No good. Went to the 44R. Good on the shoulders, but big in the middle. No good. And no 43R on the rack. "Well," said the little dude I guess manages the place, "maybe you should check out a specialty store with other sizes." And it occurred to me, I'm the newest victim in our fashion society: Thick Guy. In a day when Leonardo DiCaprio and Jude Law are Hollywood's latest leading men, Thick Guy has no home at Banana Republic or Armani. Thick Guy is more Mark McGwire than Toby Maguire. He has to shop at JC Penney or Men's Warehouse. But hey, I can deal. Thick Guy also orders and demolishes prime rib sandwiches with ease.
I thought I was in trouble in Utica Square when a security guard rolled up next to me, honked and signaled to roll down the window. I figured my AC/DC was up too loud. Turns out he just wanted to compliment my latest bumper sticker, which declares "WHO WOULD AL QAEDA VOTE FOR!" This fellow Thick Guy and his partner were enthusiastic about my choice of voting issue and wanted to know where to get the same sticker. It was sweet. Now I just need to get my "Sportsmen for Bush" decal up. And I want to make a t-shirt: "Bush-Cheney '04: The Ass-Whooping Ticket!" (It's important that these slogans end with exclamations, no matter the sentence structure.)
I got some more Drillers games to work at the ballpark this week. Drop by any night but Wednesday. On Wednesday, I think I might go bowling. Let me know if you're in.
