Aaron walked out of the bookstore sucking the middle finger on his right hand. "Cats", he said sarcastically. "Chalk this up for another reason why I hate the fuckers". He kept walking north on Lincoln thinking why he didn't just stay at the store. He needed a book on the history of the cattle trade in Chicago for his thesis project and that store would have it. His thesis concerned the environmental effects of OFFAL in the Mississippi River before 1900.

He also was attracted to the store clerk. He instantly liked her. He saw in her the type of beauty that will transcend time. The wholesome, natural beauty of a woman that is both instantly striking and ("wow, she's pretty") and long term staring beauty ("hey, that girl is 'really' pretty). And this was with all the tattoos and the piercing covering her body.

He stopped in front of 'The Red Lion' to see if the bottle was still there. It was.

The previous Sunday morning, he was walking home from buying the Sunday Trib, directly in front of the Red Lion. He was reading the sports pages while walking and he had kicked an empty bottle (24-tablet size) of Advil. The bottle bounced and spun haphazardly on the concrete sidewalk about 7 feet (2.13 m) before striking a blue Sun-Times newspaper box. The bottle bounced off the box turning end over end. Amazingly, the bottle stopped upright. "Fucking A", Aaron had said. He walked to the bottle and picked it up. He shook the bottle. He heard a pill rattle on the inside. "That will never happen again no matter how many times I do it", he thought. He walked across the sidewalk and placed upside down on the limestone sill of 'The Red Lion', and continued home picking up where he left off in the sports pages.

Now, he stood looking at the bottle. Certainly someone would have seen this and thrown it away. It had been 5 days. "Cool", he murmured. He checked his watch. 3:34 PM. Aaron contemplated whether to go inside. "Fuck it, I'm thirsty" he said, and headed in.

At 4:01 PM he exited out of 'The Red Lion'. He looked at the sill. The bottle was still there. He wondered why the wind had never blown it off the sill. He headed back south down Lincoln Ave. toward the bookstore. Aaron decided while nursing his beer he was going to ask the girl out and find his book. He pulled open the door to the bookstore and approached the girl.

"Hi I was in a bit earlier. I was looking for a book until I got mauled by your tiger" he said in with dry sarcasm. "Oh yeah. Sorry about that. He gets a little hungry and his favorite snack is college students." "Dead giveaway huh?" He gave her an extra second of a look to catch her eye. She gave a small laugh under her breath. "It was the backpack and you haven't shaved. What book are you looking for?" She caught his glanced and her eyes sparkled a bit. "I'm looking for 'Chicago's Pride: The Stockyards, Packingtown, a Environs in the Nineteenth Century' by Louise Carroll Wade!", Aaron replied. "Hmm. I haven't heard of that one. Is it new? "No, it was written a long time ago. I think in the late 1800's. "Let me ask." She turned her head towards a doorway with the beginning of a flight of stairs on it. Aaron noticed a black and white framed picture of the late Mayor Richard J. Daley with two other men. "Werner?" The 'Werner' trailed off as she turned her head in the direction of the staircase. "Do we have 'Chicago's Pride: The Stockyards, Packingtown, a Environs in the Nineteenth Century' by Louise Carroll Wade! "Yeah we've got it. It's definitely not first edition though. We haven't had a request for that one in a while. It's in our Chicago history section. It's not in great condition but you'll find it there." This Earl guy must be the owner, Aaron figured. "It's right over there" she said. Her dog chain bracelet (with small links) got caught on an upturned chrome 'handle' from a medium sized black binder clip which was holding a 1/2 inch thick packet of paper. This caused the packet to slide off of its perch and on to the counter, facing Aaron. He stared at the letterhead. In blue ink was 'City of Chicago - Office of the Mayor'. His eyes quickly moved down to the signature line. There it was. Mayor Daley's signature. He looked up and started to walk in the direction she was pointing out. "Thanks". He gave her a slight smile and walked on. Aaron walked over three aisles and turned right in the direction the girl gave him. Starting on third shelf from, occupying the bottom three shelves were numerous books on the history of Chicago. Aaron estimated 75 books. A shelf below that and to the right he found his book. He thumbed through the pages blindly looking at the content. He saw a leather chair tucked in a corner at the end of the aisle and decided to read some of the book. This would give him a chance to make small talk with the girl.

Aaron had read 5 pages including the preface when he heard the bells ringing from the front door opening. From the chair where he was sitting, Aaron had a view of the front desk but not the front door. It was framed by the corner of a bookshelf for children's books, and the 4 rows of bookshelves that were located perpendicular to the aisle he was sitting in that led to the main counter. The frame was approximately 7 feet wide. A man with a brown fedora hat TRAIPSED into his view. The man was in followed closely by two slim but strong, athletic bodyguards.

"SODERSTROM! GET THE FUCK DOWN HERE!" The man was the Honorable Richard M. Daley, Mayor.