Jinx Turf Wars

Here's a piece on my old cafe written by my pal Randy Moe:

TURF WARS 2002
They come from the east. From where we are sitting, on the sidewalk in front of JINX cafe, they seem out of place. They’re in gangs of 4, 6, 8 and 10. How quickly they walk in their casual best clothes, new shirts, Dockers and nice shoes. They’re twenty something’s and at first we think they are lost, but so many come, all from the east, and become a stream of pretty people.
It’s the first warm dry Saturday night of the spring; it’s not hot, just pleasant. We’re a rag tag group of friends just lounging and waiting for the sunset. A couple of the JINX regulars are skateboarding and showing off, the rest sit on the ground of the wide sidewalk, our feet stretched slightly into the walkers traffic. We drink coffee and watch, as we have for years, the flow of Division Street.

Nearly half the people from the east are drinking something from a bottle in a brown paper bag, doing their best to appear cool. I’m not sure where they got the booze, but it strikes me as unusual, even for Wicker Park. Did they all stop at CUT RATE LIQUORS? Are the people from the east adapting to old Division and Damen habits? Nelson Algren could be proud.

Suddenly we know. We all know. It’s over. It’s really over. The people from the east outnumber us. We are now, simply a Lincoln Park Annex. We absorb this grim reality and agree; this is the summer the yuppies win. And just now a pastel foursome of soccer moms storm by, heading back east and as they hurry by I hear one voice, loudly whispering to her cohorts, “JINX has got to go!” Startled, I relay this to my friends and as I know they will, they shout out, “Go back to the suburbs!” It’s now dark and the people from the east just keep moving into the corner of Division and Damen.