Hey, Chicago, Say Hello to Your Next F#@*ing Mayor

Hey, Chicago, Say Hello to Your Next F#@*ing Mayor

On a recent Saturday morning, a middle-aged man worked the produce and deli sections of a South Side Chicago supermarket, ambling past signs touting a half-pound of honey ham for $2.49 and a bulletin board with photos of three teen runaways. In tan chinos, a sports shirt and a well-worn brown leather jacket, he walked up to the African-American shoppers and employees with brisk efficiency, engaged in amiable but brief chats, then turned and headed down the bread aisle, a universe away from the West Wing meeting he'd have been in were it not for a career decision unprecedented in political annals.

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