If you've ever taken the Metra all over the Chicagoland area, you'd know that nearly every single stop is accompanied by a bar. Years ago, after sharp surveillance, Drunk Dave said to MSM one day, "We need to just like, you know, fuckin' just go to like, all of 'em," and then he swept his hand for emphasis, knocked over his beer, and ordered a round of Rumplemintz for everyone who witnessed the faux pas.
MSM is a little gossip queen, and the following Sunday morning we were drinking at Orazio's, and she told a Smith Sister and I about Drunk Dave's plan.
"Well, we have to do this," I said. "I don't think we have a choice."
"I'm pretty sure this is the greatest idea ever, except for that one time you made beer cubes," the Smith Sister pointed out.
"Yes," I solemnly agreed, "My beer cubes were a huge success." I took a sip of my drink and pondered. "What should we call it?"
MSM lit a cigarette. "We don't have to call it anything, we just have to go to a bar, drink, get on the train, drink, get off the train, go to a bar, drink, and repeat until we can't see anymore."
"No, we have to call it something. I like Naming Things."
Within moments, we were silent and gazing upwards in contemplation, until the Smith Sister broke the silence. "Wait. Okay, I got it. What sound do trains make?"
I did the best train horn I'm capable of replicating, but I'm no Michael Winslow.
"Well, yeah," Smith Sister humored me. "But I was thinking more like, 'chooooo choooooo'."
So I did more train sounds, because I was all stuck on calling it a train sound and then giving it a symbol, like Prince.
"No, like, chugga chugga chooo chooo-" Smith Sister corrected me.
"I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can--"
They both ignored me, and MSM turned to the Smith Sister. "Oh-oh-oh...and what do you do with beer?"
I "WAIT! I know! Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family, a big fucking television. Choose the best fucking train crawl ever."
"Ross, we don't need to go too abstract here."
"Bu you know? From Trains-"
"Shut up, yes, I know. Focus. Think."
After like, fifteen more tries they got me to stop quoting movies about trains and describing my love for Shining Time Station and we settled on a name.
The word has spread, and what began as a fifteen person pub crawl has since escalated into a forty-person extravaganza of excellence. Any man that gets left behind? Stays behind.
Next one's in May. Everyone is invited.