A Luxurious Stop on the Press Junket Gravy Train
Author Archives: Laurel DiGangi
Random Acts Of Kindness
The old man was sitting at a picnic table alongside a fast food stand on North Lincoln Avenue. His head was down, resting on his forearm, like a grade-schooler taking a nap at his desk. There was no shade, no breeze, just the hot noonday sun beating down on his exposed scalp. A plastic basket […]
Celebrity Studs
“Laurel, which celebrity stud would be most likely to search for your G-spot?” It’s my worst nightmare this year. I’m a guest on a new TV game show, Celebrity Studs, a hybrid of Studs and Hollywood Squares. I survey the gridded game board of nine men whose carnal activities have brought them recent media attention. […]
Night Owls
At a quarter to four in the morning, a small group huddles in front of the North Park Village Nature Center on Chicago’s northwest side. Our guide, naturalist Jerry Garden, questions the young couple walking toward us: “Are you here for the owl prowl?” When they say yes, I ask Jerry jokingly, “Why else?” He […]
Ladies’ Luncheon
There is a certain type of woman who eats lunch alone at Marshall Field’s. While others her age need walkers, she can still glide gracefully (if slowly) on tasteful Italian pumps. A hat could upset the balance of her expensively arranged coiffure, but she still dons one on special occasions. And she doesn’t wait for […]
Waiting for Jane
Two strangers, a man and a woman, share a bench on the corner of Addison and Halsted. Their parcels lean against their thighs. Hers: bubble wrap squashed into a plastic Jewel sack. His: a filthy blue gym bag with an obscure corporate logo. She gazes eastward, searching for signs of the Addison bus. He squints […]
Local Color: Girls Will Be Girls
They parade into the restaurant, heels spiking, garters flashing, shrink-wrapped hips swaying in the night. “Those are hookers!” I exclaim, proud of my perceptive powers.
Home Delivery
Why do I crave the vicarious experince of Greta’s childbirth? Are my motives pure? Do I deserve to participate? Is it friendship, curiosity, or do I want to open my mind to the possibility of children before it’s too late?
First Person: A Waif at My Door
She’s a neighbor of mine, she says. She’s never asked for help before. If she doesn’t get $46 for diapers and formula, they’ll take her baby away.