As much as we try to be abiding goody-two-shoes, there are times when temptations get the better of us. In the 4th Century, the Greek theologian Evagrius of Pontus introduced a list of deadly sins as a way for humans to avoid falling prey to their wicked obsessions.
Though we’re not condoning excessive sinning, a wee bit of indulgence can’t hurt, right? Right? (Just as we finished writing this last sentence, a bolt of lightning suddenly burst from the sky. Uh-oh.)
Sin: Gluttony
Three times a night, give or take, someone orders the Big Porterhouse at Gibsons Steakhouse.
This was according to our waiter, after he took our order for the–and I write this sheepishly–Big Porterhouse.
Gluttony can be a little embarrassing at times.
The Big Porterhouse, in case you haven’t ordered one, is 3 pounds of seared flesh. When cooked, it looks like a charred continent.
Mega-meat is characteristic of Chicago steakhouses, many of which serve steaks that weigh 2 pounds or more. One–the Chicago Chop House–even serves a 4-pounder.
When our 48-ouncer came out of Gibsons’ kitchen, we did get a reaction from diners sitting nearby. Raised eyebrows. A laugh even, or two. My husband and I laughed too–the sizzling steak looked ridiculously large sitting there on its metal tray (a plate is far too small to hold it).
We tried to look like we didn’t know it was going to be that big, even though our waiter had carefully explained that it was 48 ounces before we ordered.
But gluttony can be fun. We tucked into this massive hunk of flesh, feeling like medieval royalty, or like lions going to town on a wildebeest. My husband made more headway than I did and managed to eat about half of it before declaring himself ready for dessert.
And so we ordered Gibson’s perfect topper to an evening of gluttony–the 10-layer German chocolate cake, which is the approximate size of a top hat.
Neighboring diners laughed at us once more. And we laughed again–as if we didn’t know the cake would be so big, as if the waiter didn’t tell us before we ordered that it served 10 to 12 people.
We left with our bellies uncomfortably distended and giant shopping bags filled with leftovers. Later that week, we washed down the leftovers the only way that seemed fitting.
With a Big Gulp.
Gibsons Steakhouse, 1028 N. Rush St., 312-266-8999; Big Porterhouse, $73.50; German chocolate cake, $12.75.
— Trine Tsouderos, [email protected]
Virtue: Abstinence
Instead of filling your intestines with meat, flush them out at Chicago Colonic, 5962 N. Lincoln Ave., 773-728- 6800. While not as much fun as eating a 48-ounce steak, this 90-minute treatment costs $95 and promises to leave you feeling more virtuous.
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Sin: Lust
As I sat down inside the theater, a stunning young lady who called herself Infinity walked up behind me, running her fingers across the back of my neck, and asked if I wanted some company.
It was alluring at first, even a little flattering. Then I saw another woman dancing on a stage, unbuttoning her top, and I snapped back to reality.
Oh yeah, I was at a strip club.
I was hanging out at the Admiral Theatre on a recent Tuesday night. And everything inside this gentleman’s club and adult entertainment emporium screamed lust. Paintings depicted topless women wearing what seem to be ancient Egyptian headdresses. Waitresses in halter-tops and matching shorts served soda and juice. Monitors played excerpts from CBS’ “Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show” special.
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But nothing said “come hither” more than the entertainers themselves. They dripped temptation. They fueled fantasy.
“The gentlemen like to come in and like the attention of a pretty girl who’s giving them their time,” general manager Tina Reinken said.
Bare skin and undulating curves will cost you. I spent $20 just to get into the joint, then another $5 for a Sprite. Since the Admiral is a full-nudity club, they don’t have a liquor license. Soda, juice and “near-beer” (O’Doul’s, for example) is all you’re going to get.
But the drinks aren’t the reason I didn’t stick around for more than a half-hour. After the initial impression wore off, I couldn’t escape the fact that the Admiral was just another business, another place where money is exchanged for goods and services–in this case, attention and a fantasy that had a snowball’s chance in Hades of actually coming true.
I’d rather spend my money at an actual bar. At least I have a shot there.
Then again, when I told one of my married buddies about my recent trip to the Admiral, he chided me, asked why I hadn’t called him to check it out. So, I guess the allure is: If you can’t buy, at least you can window shop.
Admiral Theatre, 3940 W. Lawrence Ave., 773-478-8263.
— Glenn Jeffers, [email protected]
Virtue: Chastity
Monastery of the Holy Cross, 3111 S. Aberdeen St., 773-927-7424. The Benedictine monks read from the Bible, pray and maintain a delightful bed & breakfast, one of the few located on the South Side.
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Anger
When my editor told me that my sin would be anger, let’s just say I was not happy about it. I mean, what was she getting at anyway?
But I wasn’t about to fall for that trap.
So I calmly put in a call to Mitchell Messer, director of the Anger Institute on North Wabash Avenue. So, what are people supposed to do about their anger? Punch a pillow?
“No, the pillow didn’t do anything [to them],” the licensed counselor said.
Would it help if they watched a violent bloody sporting event?
“It gives them an outlet for their wrath, but they don’t change,” he said.
What about joining a kickboxing club?
“Then you might get your jaw broken, but it wouldn’t help,” he said. “You see, it’s all physical, and the problem of anger is not physical but emotional.”
Instead, Messer recommends writing an anger letter to the people who are the source of the rage–sometimes from decades ago. But keep the letter to yourself.
He said that people find that as “soon as they rid this poison from their bloodstream, they see life more clearly and they have the possibility for happiness.”
This all sounded good except for the not-sending-the-letter part. But the counselor insisted that the anger letter is between you and you. Well, how about you and you and a group of strangers at the Uptown’s Poetry Slam?
“Speaking it out is optional,” Messer said. “But it might help.”
This, of course, would require you to convert your anger letter into an anger poem–and work up the courage to recite it in front of others. For help, check out Slam-creator Marc Kelly Smith’s “Idiot’s Guide to Slam Poetry,” which offers “insider tips on becoming a performance poet” and “inspiration to help you compose and perform powerful slam poems,” according to a promo for it on the Slam’s Web site (www.slampapi.com). We recently watched Smith preside over his 19-year-old Sunday Slam at the Green Mill with biting wit, pathos and good cheer.
But even during the open mic portion of the show, it was clear these folks were serious about their snaps. Whether they were riffing on love, loss, lust or, yes, pain-marbled anger, they sounded like they’d been honing these verses for weeks. So take your time, and polish it up until that wrath turns into something lovely. After all, you wouldn’t want to humiliate yourself in front of a bunch of strangers–that would only create a new batch of anger and anger letters to write.
The Uptown Poetry Slam is 7-10 p.m. Sundays, at the Green Mill, 4802 N. Broadway,773-878-5552.
— Monica Eng, [email protected]
Virtue: Patience
To indulge your peaceful contentment, slip into one of the floatation tanks at Space Time Tanks Floatation Center (2526 N. Lincoln Ave., 773-472-2700), where an hour float is $40.
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Sin: Pride
Despite the various, complicating tenets of marriage–having and holding and all that–some remain woefully simple. Take, for example, the concept of finding common ground.
For Kevin McManaman and his wife, Katie, that ground is the dirt and grass of Margate Park, within a 50-yard field blocked off by chalk and with McManaman whizzing a bullet of a football into his wife’s torso.
As Katie lands in the end zone, a referee throws his hands up in the air. Touchdown.
It’s the first score for the Good Squad, a flag football team that’s part of the Players Sports Group, which organizes hundreds of adult recreation leagues, from softball and volleyball to dodgeball and flag football, at parks and fields around the city.
The squad will head to the playoffs for the second straight year, thanks in part to the McManamans and their appetite for playing. Hard. Pride is on the line.
“We’re both really competitive. We hate to lose,” says Kevin, 37, an assistant coach for the University of Illinois at Chicago women’s basketball team. “We just love to compete and it’s fun to do together.”
It isn’t just flag football. The couple puts their pride on the line, together, on three other softball teams, and Katie, 32, plays volleyball for two other leagues.
She’s actually lightening her league schedule–she just finished up playing floor hockey and soccer for two other leagues.
“I like playing in team sports,” she says. “You get to meet people, and it’s a fun way to get exercise. For athletic people, it’s a great way to meet people.”
Players Sports Group, 3617 N. Ashland Ave., 773-528-1999, www.playerssports.net
— Glenn Jeffers, [email protected]
Virtue: Humility
Feel like making a fool of yourself in front of others (and maybe working your way up to “Saturday Night Live”)? Check out the i.O. Theater (formerly known as Improv Olympic, 3541 N. Clark St., 773-880-0199, www.iochicago.net), where comedians such as Mike Myers, Tina Fey and Rachel Dratch got their start. Registration for the upcoming class session begins June 2.
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Sin: Sloth
Sloth implies a general aversion to physical movement, but gamers do move.
Their fingers tap rapidly at keyboards; their eyes dart. Sometimes, they yell out expletives and drip sweat beads from the forehead.
That’s not sloth, is it?
All this low-key physicality bodes well for Ignite Network, a popular LAN gaming center–it stands for Local Area Network, and the whole thing is like a souped-up Internet Cafe–on North Clybourn Avenue.
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Here, teens to 30-somethings take part in multi-player games such as Counter-Strike and World of Warcraft, with game play that can last hours. It’s especially popular during weekday afternoons, when students from nearby Gordon Tech and Lane Tech fill the gaming center after school.
With the advent of multiplayer gaming online, kids can play in the company of friends, where they can be within shouting distance.
“It’s lonely just sitting at your home and playing online,” said Ignite Network’s David Cibrian.
Gamers at the adult-supervised Ignite Network can purchase computer time by the hour or in bulk. Non-alcoholic drinks such as soda, hot chocolate and energy drinks are sold as well.
The owners recently decided to expand their operations. They’re in the midst of remodeling and adding 45 new computers. When they reopen in mid-June, eager fingers will be back in their rightful place–furiously tapping the keyboards to defeat their friends.
Ignite Network, 3171 N. Clybourn Ave., 773-404-7033, www.ignitenetwork.com
— Kevin Pang, [email protected]
Virtue: Diligence
We mere mortals need every last drop of diligence to make it through 26.2 miles. The Chicago Marathon already has more than 30,000 people signed up for the Oct. 22 race. Registration closes when 40,000 participants sign up. Visit www.chicagomarathon.com for details.
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Sin: Greed
Greed, to me, is a desire for reward disproportionate to the effort expended to earn it.
Such as, say, casino gambling. Where else do you plunk down a couple of bucks, spin a wheel (or draw some cards) and hope to drive away with a new car? (It’s not as though the casino ads discourage that sort of thinking.)
Now, when it comes to gambling, I’m what seasoned players refer to as an idiot (among less printable terms). I’m the guy who slows down play at the blackjack table because I’ve lost count of my cards, pulling bonehead moves like splitting a pair of 10s (I really did that once), a strategy so stupefying that my sister, who used to deal blackjack in Vegas, still shakes her head at the memory.
So when my wife and I hit a casino, something we do every 17 years or so, we look for one thing: low bet minimums.
Hit one of the local casinos on a weekend night, for instance, and you’ll be lucky to find any table game (craps, roulette, blackjack, etc.) with less than a $20 minimum bet. A colleague discovered that a few weeks ago.
“You have to stake yourself with hundreds of dollars just to ride out the ups and downs,” she griped. “Are there any options around here?”
Basically there are two. One, stick to the video poker machines and small-coin slots, where you can bet one nickel at a time. Two, do your table gaming mid-week, early morning–any time but weekend nights.
“I’d certainly tell a novice or newbie to do some homework before coming in and start blowing money,” said Jeff Haines, assistant manager of table games at Jack Binion’s Horseshoe Casino Hammond. “You should have a little knowledge on what’s going on. Ask questions, read the gaming guides [complimentary] and watch for a little while before pulling money out of your pocket.”
Table minimums go up and down with traffic, Haines said. The more people on the floor, the higher the minimum bet on a table game–though, Haines said, it’s exceedingly rare to find a minimum higher than $25.
But if you prefer to lose $5 or $10 at a time–and the way I play, that’s almost an economic imperative–show up during the early hours.
— Phil Vettel, [email protected]
Virtue: Charity
If you’ve got money to gamble, you also can afford to kick a little money into, oh, Share Our Strength (www.strength.org), which works to end childhood hunger. And if you actually win at gambling, remember to 1) drop me a note and tell me what it feels like, and 2) donate 10 percent to a worthwhile charity.
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Sins: Envy
When a sweet, low engine purr enters earshot on the road, it’s hard to resist the urge to crane your neck. “Be cool,” you think. Then you see it. Saliva builds … wait, are you sweating? Through deafening heartbeat and shallow breath, you manage to emit a short, contemptuous laugh. “That guy’s not even using it right; he doesn’t deserve to drive that car.”
“But I do,” says the green-eyed monster within. Oh, the places you and your Ferrari 360 Modena Coupe F1 would go. Oh, and the speed at which you’d get there. Envious? It’s time to take destiny by the smooth, well-crafted steering wheel.
What, you don’t have a couple hundred thousand to drop? How about $995? That chunk of change could nestle you into the leathery lap of luxury–while empowering you with red-hot speed. Well, for one glorious day.
That’s the base daily rate at which Chicago Exotic Car Rentals (CECR) can hook you up with that Ferrari, unless you’d prefer a Porsche 911, a Mercedes S550, a Cadillac Escalade or even a Rolls-Royce Phantom–the models that round out the most popular of the high-end rentals (prices vary by car). A Lamborghini will join the fleet soon, says CECR co-owner Michael Mustafa, who rents out about a dozen vehicles each week to business execs and out-of-towners, along with a smattering of special-occasion orders. Whatever your vehicular poison, here’s a manageably extravagant way to get your jaded paws on that the luxe car you’ve been coveting.
Chicago Exotic Car Rentals, 29 S. LaSalle St., Suite 600; 866-661-1054
— Fauzia Arain, [email protected]
Virtue: Satisfaction
While we’re busy drooling over fancy wheels and irrationally hating their owners, what must our own loyal cars be thinking? Maybe those oil leaks are really tears of rejection. Take your trusty four-wheeled friend for a spin to one of the many Fuller’s Car Wash Chicagoland locations for a premium cleaning that’ll have your clunker looking shiny, if not new, inside and out (fullerscarwash.com; $14.95-$24.95).
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