We got lost in Granite City for an hour and a half tonight (that's a long ol' story, one I don't think I have the vim/vigor to tell right now). GC is one of the most surreal cities I've ever seen at night; weirder than Vegas. There is something about seeing functional Midwester industrial-agro architecture, backlit by refractory flames, that makes me feel like I am dreaming even though I am awake. We got stalled by a train that seemed to roll on forever. We could finally see the last car in the distance ... but then the train stopped. And then it started going backwards. And it was the only obstacle between us and Rte. 3 (i.e. the road home). We stopped at a 7-11, but the cashier didn't know how to get to Nameoke Road (i.e., the other road home) and the customers were too drunk to give proper directions. So we drove and we drove. We drove by a huge and seemingly deserted hospital; past VFW Halls and shivering people of indeterminate gender, always in hoodies, walking down the sidewalk with freshly purchased bottles of liquor under their armpits, hands shoved in pockets. We drove by an abandoned storefront whose purpose had once been, according to the sign on the front, plaster casting. Then we drove past many small dark houses with flickering blue windows lit with TV sets, and empty train cars, and spidery trees. When we zoomed over the bridge, I was so disoriented I didn't realize we were home until I saw the Corner Cafe on Salisbury. Even though it was closed I have never been so happy to see it, even happier than the last time we had lunch there and the teacup matched my manicure.