“What makes him go to some bars and not others?” I wondered. Was it drink specials, beer gardens, proximity to pub trans? I couldn’t figure it out.
On the windy last night of September, I strode into Logan Square’s Green Eye Lounge. Having learned not to waste my time elsewhere, I went straight to the bartender and asked for a lead on the tamale man. “You just missed them,” he told me, gesturing at the tables behind me. Them?! There had been more than one?! Sure enough, the tables were littered with cornhusks. “Claudio was in here five minutes ago.”
“No!” I exclaimed, slumping down in my barstool. So close and yet so far! He gave me a curious look and I explained the saga. “Oh, well I can just text him if ya want.” TEXT HIM?! Claudio, our renegade dive bar delivery man, is on the grid?! “Uh yes. Yes, please.” “He’s responding right now. 20 minutes. He’ll be back.” Could it be that it was just that easy?