RIOT FEST
Riot Fest had begun life as a scrappy punkock showcase in the dank undergrowth of Chicago’s alternative music scene. Left unchecked, it had flourished like mold in a refrigerator until it finally spilled out of its traditional home at the Congress Theatre and emerged into the sunlight as a full-grown music festival. It was now a carnival of porta-potties and amusement rides, which occupied the grassy expanse of Humboldt Park just a few blocks from the Cursèd Place. Our street was now a nightmare snarl of box trucks and cargo vans and tourists from the suburbs who didn’t know how to f*****g parallel park.
I sat on the roof watching the traffic lurch past on the street below and stewed about Tombstone. He still refused to answer my messages, so I’d programmed Google alerts to pin
