Considering Cleveland

The train rolled into Cleveland (on time, for a change) at three in the morning, and the city immediately endeared itself to me much better that Pittsburgh had: there were seven taxicabs at the station. I feel like there’s a lot more of what I saw and did in Cleveland that I covered to my own satisfaction in my travelogue than either Pittsburgh or Washington, so I’ll keep this brief(er).

I said the city had an empty feel to it. Here’s an example—I went through downtown in search of a postcard. I found one of the downtown hotel lobbies which was also an “arcade” a block long. There were about 15 storefronts, so I figured for sure there’d be a postcard somewhere in there. Twelve of the stores were empty, two were closed (on a Friday, in the mid-afternoon,) and the one that was open was selling a number of sundries and knickknacks, but no postcards. There was another, similar arcade in the same block, and while the doors were open, I walked through it alone, and did not see a single operating business.

There was a movie being filmed there at the time, and if I could care less about modern movies, I’d be able to tell you which one it was. A luxury hotel was standing in for a luxury hotel somewhere in Germany—there was a German flag flying from the flag pole and the sign had one of these guys: ß in the name. And then, in the middle of the straße were several overturned vehicles. Elsewhere, in one of the broadest (but eerily quiet) streets, with several imposing buildings looming over it, was crammed nearly a hundred New York City taxicabs, a fair number of which had also been overturned. I know very little about this opus, except that I am in no hurry to see it when it comes out.

I didn’t know the game was going to have a fireworks show, and I never got to see it anyways. I had one of the worst loudmouth right behind me. He spent the first four innings complaining about a girl and averaging four F-bombs a sentence. Then he disappeared for four innings, and came back right around the beginning of the ninth with four beers. He’d moved past talking about the girl, but that didn’t stop the language. Because the stadium is so small and so close to other buildings, they shoot the fireworks over the left-field bleachers—which have to be evacuated first. So, I figured there’d be a wait of about ten minutes. That’s when motormouth uncorks this gem, “you F[]in’ kidding me? You’ve never been to F[]in’ Yorktown? That’s where we were F[]in’ born as a F[]in’ country.” I made my way for the taxi stand right then and there. There were at least a dozen lined up, ready to go.

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