Dear Thingie embedded in the asphalt of Richard Road,

That Chi-town rat's got nothin' on you.

Feb 02, 2024

There’s been a lot of talk about a “rat hole” in Chicago, and I know how that can make you feel. You’ve been shining there on Richard Road for as long as I can remember, but where’s your media coverage? Where are all the selfies featuring you on social?

Listen, Thingie, I’m here to tell you that some ridiculous rodent-shaped negative space doesn’t come close to you, and anyone who doesn’t believe me can take a good look at this photo of us from November 2022.

Do you remember that day? Do you remember who we used to be?

Maybe it was in the way your resistors lined up with those tiny colorful rings, or your fine and delicate numbers, or the way you simply would not budge from your rocky asphalt bed no matter how I coaxed you (and we both know how much I coaxed you).

Whatever it was Thingie, you really amped my circuit.

Let’s just say it: you probably came from some mundane household object, maybe a microwave or vacuum cleaner. No lie—I sorta love the way you’ll keep that secret forever. It lets me dream and scheme: I can imagine you’re part of a mysterious antenna transmitting secret messages, or the tip of an otherwise giant robot that’s scheduled to awaken any day now and save humanity.

It’s that mystique that keeps me coming back.

I know my history isn’t exactly immaculate, but what did you expect from a woman like me? I’m a walker, Thingie and I’ll never change. I go from one mile to the next and the next and the next.

You always knew you weren’t my first and you probably won’t be the last, so yeah, I’ve had my share of “relationships,” but they were meaningless, despite all their dazzle and bling.

I promise you, most of it was an innocent walk through the park, a world away from whatever you were dreaming up on those cold and lonely nights.

Okay already! I admit it, I got a little dressed up that one time, but I was in Athens, for pity’s sake, and truth be told, Thingie, that guy was a real blockhead.

In reality, most of them just wanted to be friends

Others were trying to find themselves.

Some felt small, Thingie, and needed a little encouragement.

There were the ones I could never understand …

… and the ones who were only tying to warn me.

And to be honest, I came across some real snakes out there.

Not Oliver, though; Oliver was different. You woulda liked him, if you ever gave him a chance.

We both knew this was coming, so let’s get through it like all the rest.

I won’t deny it; I couldn’t resist the Cleveland Toynbee tile, but he’s gone now. I promise. And really, Thingie, could you blame me for falling for the likes of him?