Taste of Chicago. Planned Parenthood. 3 persons.

The sweltering heat conquers the 50,000 people who decided to step out on a ridiculously hot day just to eat the same crap they’ve eaten over and over again in the city of Chicago: Pizza, corn, hotdogs. That’s it. And this is only ONE DAY! There are certain things that people have to get, but why pay $10 for a slice of Connie’s pizza, when you can just take the Orange Line for $2.25 and order a whole pizza for about $20? I’m not gonna get pizza. I’m going to get one drink out of my cooler and head to the pavilion to listen to music. For free! You asses can walk around and melt while stuffing your faces.

He was going at it again, Mike thought to himself. Doesn’t this guy every just shut up? And why does he insist on tagging along when all he does is complain about the prices and say he just came for the music? Just go sit your ass down and listen to the music.

Right, Jim. Just go sit down. But he decides to keep walking with them.

“You ever do it in this type of heat?” he asked.

“What the hell kind of question is that?” Mike said, raising his voice. “Why are you asking me that right now?”

“I was just wondering, man. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I was just thinking how hard it is to get a condom on when you’re all drenched in sweat from foreplay, especially in 100 degree heat with no AC,” he continued. “I mean, it goes on just fine, but I always wonder if it’s just gonna slip right off and get lost in her, ya know?”

The Dope walking with them just laughed, ending it with his teeth clenched, letting the air escape in a long, breathy S sound. He licked a Rainbow Cone he picked up while the other two kept talking.

“Dude, what kind of condoms are you using?” asked Mike. “They’re not supposed to slip off, you ass. And they’re supposed to be water proof. You either put it on or not. Didn’t they teach you anything in sex ed?”

This guy has to shut his trap or else I’m going to punch him, thought Mike. He was already irritated from the heat and hungry from walking around downtown and now this guy was talking about hot sex, and not even that kind of hot.

“Do you think a lot of abortions happen during the summer?”

The Dope’s eyes opened wide and they all stopped. He didn’t even continue chewing on his burger he got from Billy Goat’s. Mike leaned into Jim and stared at him. A look of “Whaaat?” crossed Jim’s face and he didn’t know what he said wrong, so he decided to explain himself.

“I mean, it’s already hot, right? So why would a chick want to walk around like house when it’s already hot? That would suck. I’m just wondering if she would think about how uncomfortable she would be, do you think she would get an ab…”

“SHUT UP! What kind of people do YOU hang around? And why are you with us? I just want a damn hot dog!” Mike had exploded. He didn’t want to talk about sex, he didn’t want to talk about babies, he just wanted a hot dog and a beer and to sit down and listen to the free music playing at the Pavilion.

The Dope looked down at his shoes, slurping on his smoothie.

“Aiight, dude. I was just trying to make conversation! Don’t get all pissy at me for trying to be nice to you turds.”

Mike just looked at him and went for the hotdog stand. Jim walked toward the Pavilion and the Dope just stood there, enjoying his Eli’s Cheesecake.

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