linda sullivan will tell just about anybody that she’s from Chicago. If she tries to pull that on you, call her a liar when you arrive in her south suburb of the city and stand on the 18th green of the world’s largest golf course. With that kind of claim to fame, what does she need the Sears Tower for anyway?
If you stick around to get to know the girl, you won’t find linda to be much of a liar. She’s straightforward, sarcastic, confrontational and curious, all of which have gotten her into trouble of some kind at one point or another. She likes chewing on the chocolate chunks in mint ice cream and dissecting Swedish fish with her teeth. linda loves all things Mexico, Jesus, and photographic, especially the latter when no one’s looking.
She’ll love it if you call her “Lee-nda”, with a long i, sounding like a Spanish accent. It’ll remind her of Tijuana, the day she learned how to dance salsa, and the man she fell in love with. linda doesn’t know the first thing about the decades before her, things of a historical nature never quite stuck in her academic mind, but she’ll listen to the likes of Buddy Guy or Bob Dylan before the processed pop-rock on the radio.
And, oh, she decided she doesn’t really want a real job. So, she’ll let you know how that works out.