Stuff, things, and various pre-Puerto Rico miscellany

"It was the kind of town that made you feel like Humphrey Bogart: you came in on a bumpy little plane, and, for some mysterious reason, got a private room with a balcony overlooking the town and the harbor; then you sat down and drank until something happened. I felt a tremendous difference between me and everything real."-Hunter S. Thompson, "The Rum Diary"Now THAT sounds like my kind of town. One of the many reasons why I'm leaving for The Walled City with little more than a plane ticket a pocketful of dreams. It seems like a pretty simple decision from where I'm standing. I could work four excruciating days... or I could jet off to a Caribbean paradise and splice drinking and gambling and oceanside lounging with the team I would take a goddamn bullet for going for gold for a second year in a row. Chicago was such a pants-tightening success that I couldn't think of turning down the Puerto Rico Tip-Off.I travel a lot for my job. I've crisscrossed...