A friend and I went to the Cubs game and we parked here. After the game we went to the bars, so we'd been drinkin' like ten hours when we got back to the car at around midnight. The entrance was blocked with a chain, so I tried to drive over the curb, but it's about four feet high. I got stuck, and the car was now like a teeter-totter. I stumbled into the police station across the street and asked the cop at the desk if he would help us push it. He came over with a two-by-four, which he wedged under the car. As we were doing this, three guys leaving the Manhole dressed in leather pants and leather vests came walking by and said, "Do you boys need some help?" We say yeah, so they got behind the car. Now I had the cop, my friend, and three leather queens trying to help. I glanced in the rearview mirror, and it literally looked like the Village People were trying to lift my car over the curb. They finally got it free, my friend hopped in, we thanked everyone and drove away. The cop was sitting there smiling with his three new friends. We had a good lesson in the meaning of community service.
--Jim Bokowski, trader