Have a blessed day

A few weeks ago, B and I were walking to get our usual afternoon caffeine vehicles (less so now, as B has once again sworn off the stuff - third time in four years), and at the corner of our block we came across a hole in the sidewalk.

It's important to me that you understand what I mean by "hole" in this particular case. It's an irregular, somewhat elongated, shape - sort of like Lake Michigan. It's maybe two feet long and under a foot wide. It looks a little like a Bigfoot footprint. (Hmmmmm.) Most importantly, and please believe me when I tell you this (B will back me up here): the hole is without a bottom. It is deep, deep black and, as one peers inside, clearly has no sides or bottom anywhere even remotely close to the opening. If you listen very closely, you can hear what can only be described as the slow, calm breathing of a huge demon.

This is scary to me for the following reasons:

1. I don't like demons that breathe.
2. I don't like bottomless holes.
3. This particular bottomless hole is on the block where I work, only two feet from the nearest El train support beam, and only a few yards from the sweet, high-voiced homeless guy who sits at the corner every day with his Toy Story figurines and milk crate wishing people to have a blessed day as they hurry by.

Well, who knew that the City of Chicago would snap into action??? That's exactly what they did. Although I was not present, I can only imagine the thoughtful, perhaps even philosophical, discussion that the sidewalk technicians must have had. They had to assess the damage, assess the demon, and, you know, generally come up with a good way to fix our fucking sidewalk before we all get sucked into this sinkhole of doom. I'm sure the planning must have taken a great many man hours. Tax dollars. Brain power.

So much so, that when they finally slapped that piece of plywood down over the hole and screwed it into the cement with tiny screws, it must have been super rewarding. Maybe they had a ribbon cutting. They do good work, the City, and even took the care to bevel the plywood. They beveled the plywood. They beveled the plywood.

At least this flimsy piece of wood prevents us all from hearing the demon laughing at us.