On our second night in Chicago, we were walking toward our third bar of the evening when we found that the street we were on had been blocked off by several police cars, a few fire trucks, and an ambulance.
I tapped a bystander and asked him what had happened.
"Some kind of gang thing, I think -- six guys got in a fight with three guys," he said. "The six guys won."
Satisfied with my answer from Captain Obvious, I turned to his tattooed friend to ask why one of the fire fighters was spraying down the street with water.
"One of the guys got stabbed," replied Captain Tattoo. "They're spraying off all the blood."