Sunday, October 29, 2006


The television was on in the background while I was in the bathroom getting ready for a Halloween Party yesterday. Check, Please! was on and I heard Alpanah Singh announce they were going to review the May Street Cafe--a restaurant near my place--so I ran into the living room. And there he was.

Hot neighbor. Talking up the joint. I had to call the one other person I know who's familiar with him.

Just as I was dialing Janel's number, there was a knock at my door. The workman had arrived to take a look at my shower that's apparently running into the British neighbors' flat, yet again, below me. A little confusion ensued.

"Hot neighbor's on Channel 11!" I frantically yelled into my phone, letting the guy in.

"What?" asked the workman.

"I know! I have it on!" said Janel, equally excited. I pulled the workman into the living room and tried to carry on a conversation with Janel, while explaining the whole hot neighbor thing to him.
For those of you outside of Chicago, or not familiar with the show, Check Please brings on three "regular" people who come on and offer up their favorite restaurants for review by the other two. Restaurants that get a rave review--like May St.--get a tremendous boost in business and don't look back. Consequently hot neighbor should be able to eat there free for life.

Hot neighbor--or I should say hot former neighbor as he has moved--was cleaned and pressed for the show leading Janel to say that she thinks some of his heat has cooled. Maybe a little, it's just that he's one of those guys who look really good dirty. You know the bed head, scruffy face, cigarette dangling from the mouth, walking the dogs, calling hello up to you as you're leaning out to water your flower boxes, kind of hot.

He may not live in Pilsen anymore, but he's continuing to keep it real as he lambasted the other guest's choice of Tavern on Rush. Maybe just a little over the top, because if some folks would rather eat at a restaurant sitting on a slice of Chicago's most expensive real estate knowing that their Lexus SUV is sitting safely in a nearby lot versus off a dark, industrial strip on Cermak Rd. with something that looks like a giant lit cigarette sitting on its end and belching out God only knows what nearby, then to each their own.

In honor of this hot neighbor sighting, I'm reprinting "Ode to My Hot Neighbor," originally posted in April.

Hot neighbor. You're so hot.
You walk two dogs That you got
You smoke cigarettes And I'm guessing pot.
Hot neighbor. You're so hot.

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