Dinner With Chet

As a whole, our bunch of rag-tag wanderers, my friends, back around 7th Grade, on the South Side of Chicago, walked up & down, every street in our neighborhoood...not looking for trouble...but for something to do...

See, our neighborhood was sparse as far as kid's stuff to do...But we never, ever felt we were missing anything because we were clueless as can be...and that was a good thing, sometimes...

Take one windy, wet, cold, early March night...A Friday night...a dark and vicious soaker...me and my friends had our HAYES PARK HOCKEY champion jackets on...that we had just won...up at our park...and those jackets felt like heavy sponges...as we dredged down 87th Street...in a pouring, frigid rain...

We came across a new restaurant, just opened up...

THE CRAZY SICILIAN RESTAURANT & SATALITE LOUNGE...

Just a tiny place, a hole in the wall, dump, kinda, but it offered us a chance to dodge the onslaught of rain, that was relentlessly pelting against us...

I'm guessing there was close to 8 to 12 of us...the usual suspects...filing into THE CRAZY SICILIAN...with little idea...of what kinda food they even had....

I think the waitress looked at us like lost mongrels, soaked to the bone...as we peeled off our soggy coats and sat down. for a peek at the menu...

We looked around and the place was empty, except for us, a table right next to us, had just left...and we tried to figure out...what they had just eaten...on their remaining plates...

Suddenly, my good friend, the young & ever-growing man-child, John "Chet" Feeely, started to scarf down, the leftovers, from the empty table, next to us...with reckless abandon...

Chet was not just grabbing an errant french fry, but was boldly going "hog wild"...chowing down, on a leftover "Chicken Parmesian" dinner...You could still see teeth marks on the melted mozzerella, chicken patty...as the dismay and horror...overtook some of our faces...

My good friend, Moodo, hit the roof, in his own, impeccable, Moodo, way, bursting out, with a spastic howl, screaming at Chet, to throw down, the chicken patty, and come to his senses.

Sure, Chet, was clearly, over-the-line, acting like an animal and a complete fool...but the rest of us, found a great deal of laughter, in what was transpiring, before us. Indeed, Chet was unphased, by Moodo's jarring hits...and he munched and munched and munched...away...

As far as Chet was concerned, he was our food tester, at that moment, going to give us, his sparkling review of his "special of the day"...Chicken ala' Chet...

I think the waitress, walked cautiously up, with a strange grin, wondering what was so funny. These foolish, foolish boys, were there, but a minute, and were already, out of control...

We all tried to regain, our composure, but we kept glancing, over at Chet, his cheeks now, stuffed, looking like a big chipmunk...that hit the motherload of nuts...

You can't bottle "dumb fun" like that...but that was just par for the course, when me and my friends got together...because we were, truly jokesters, never knowing, who would be doing crazy stuff, next...

Just an ordinary Friday night, South-Side, maybe 1976 or 1977...just a few bucks in our pockets...nowhere special to go...but the world was ours by the string...in a never-ending adventure...that would know, no end...always having a good time...no matter what...

Just ask Moodo or Chet....