Touristy parts of town crack my shit up.
Mostly because I never have to go to them.
Back when I was working in one, it was an openly maligned hell hole I couldn't wait to be out of. If you work in one of the Hard Rock Cafe's, Planet Hollywood's, or Rain Forest Cafe's of this world, my hat's off to you. Those places are magnets for all kinds of inanely irritating people from lands far and wide who have chosen to plop themselves at one of your tables and make themselves your problem.
But the difference between, say, a place like Chicago, LA, or New York and, say, Orlando, FL or Pigeon Forge, TN, is that these are big fucking cities: the biggest fucking cities, in fact, that this fine country has to offer. So when people come here to Chicago, which was the murder capital of the country multiple years over, and act like they're ordering themselves up a churro at Busch Gardens, I couldn't be more pleased when something goes amiss and reminds them they're in an actual city and not Frontierland.
I hadn't been down to north Michigan Ave for awhile. But I was within 2 mi walking distance, it was a nice night, and I wanted a laugh.
Not only was I treated to such wonderous delights as advertisements for "Legally Blonde: The Musical," which may be the most despicable thing I can fathom, and a sign that said "Bored with your ice cream? HERSHEY-IZE it!" at a store that ONLY sells Hersheys chocolate-relayed products (while apparently offering Hersheyizing services), but I spotted a mommy-daughter duo out having a nice night on the town watching a carriage horse eat out of the garbage. They probably drove in from Indiana, hoping for some good wholesome fun, getting all dressed up for a nice dinner and carriage ride, and end up watching a horse eat old burrito wrappers while his handler looks on smoking, ignoring the situation almost entirely.
They couldn't have been more disgusted.
Thank god they didn't see the hobo peeing on Borders.