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Bob's friend was meeting someone in Chicago. He agreed to meet his friend at O'Hare Airport. That was their total agreement. They didn't specify a time. They didn't specify a location at O'Hare. So we got to Chicago and headed first for O'Hare. We figured we'd dump him off and he could worry about finding his friend. But as we drove in, he pointed out a car ahead of us and said "that's my friend!". We just followed that car in and dropped him off where it stopped. He had been certain that he wouldn't have any problem connecting with his friend - I guess some people just have the magic touch.
One of the things Bob wanted to do was to drive past his old neighborhood and the
apartment he had lived in. We got a little lost trying to find it, and were driving
around in an area that appeared to be very much a ghetto. We got the feeling that
any car parked longer than 10 minutes would be missing a few things when the owner
returned (like, maybe, totally stripped). We stopped at a gas station for some
directions and were accosted by a tough-looking black fellow who asked us for a
dollar so he could buy a little grass. I was quite willing to give him a dollar in
exchange for directions out of there, but my roommates laughed at him and said no
way were they giving him anything. He started acting a bit more intimidating and
I decided to just give him whatever change I had in my pocket. So I reached into
my pocket and grabbed the spare change that was there and dropped it into his hand.
It turns out that there was a little less than I thought. When he looked at his
hand and found three pennies, we decided it was time to get in the car and split.
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The weekend of the first moon landing found me and my roommates, Bob and Rick, in
Chicago. Bob had lived there a few years while growing up, and a friend of his was
looking for a ride there, so we decided to drive him up and see the city.