Is that a scathing 300-page indictment in your pocket Pat, or are just glad to see me?
I've had the hots for Chicago U.S. Attorney Patrick Fitzgerald since he came here the summer of 2001. Among many other types of guys, I'm attracted to nerds, irishmen, and tall guys, and he's got all three. And now that he's working hard to bring down Karl "Turd Blossom" Rove, I'm head over heels for him.
I "met" him a couple of months after 9/11 in the Walgreen's at the corner of Randolph and State. He was looking at greeting cards (probably picking out a nice one to send to his poor immigrant Irish mom in NYC). I use the term "met" loosely as I kind of stalked him for a bit until I worked up the courage to approach him. When courage found me, I walked over to him and stuck out my hand in all my spastic glory. "Hi, are you Patrick Fitzgerald?" He nodded and smiled, looking quite taken aback as he shook my hand. Then I spit out the following, probably without taking a breath: "HimynameisAngiehowdoyoulikeChicagohaveaniceholidaybyetakecarenicemeetingyouwillyoube thefatherofmychildren!" (Alright I really didn't ask him to be my baby daddy)
If I wasn't so lazy, and if I didn't have the attention span of a toddler, I'd be a proper stalker. (So Pat, you're safe! You can back off, FBI. . . .just kidding, Call me!) And actually all joking aside, this guy truly seems like a respectable public servant floating in a vast sea of douche bags. So he's completely worthy of my admiration.
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