
15 Minutes with Kevin in Evanston
Kevin was on his own. His endgame, I had figured out, was just to let his rage unfurl until the booze wore off. At which point, assuming he avoided arrest, he’d walk home. I figured this because I had been there before. And truth be told, I was having a bit of a bad day, too. Nothing specific. Just a general sense of annoyance with being awake. It happens. It’s one of the reasons we drink beer in bars and put up with bar trivia hosts.
![I Believe… [No. You Come See MY Show...]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/579fa3912994ca0eff850271/1548442636298-S2539E8I4S8QARKLBKBC/ibelieve....jpg)
I Believe… [No. You Come See MY Show...]
…that in the wake of goodbyes and farewells associated with leaving Chicago, your request that I come see your show before I leave is just so baldly self-promotional it renders me cold and crunchy.
...that most people don’t actually want freedom—they want the illusion of choice between two algorithm-approved options and a coupon code for 15% off regret.