My fondest memory of the car jail on Lower Wacker is the 30 min. or so I spent drinking with the winos under the Illinois Center. I had a half jug of wine in the car, and not wanting to drink it on the way home [smirk] I simply gave it away. They invited me to join them . . . I accepted [what the heck]. It was like a scene from a post-apocalyptic B-movie: water dripping from overhead, steam rising from below, dark, dreary, barren . . . I wished for my camera.