1,001 Chicago Afternoons

Through a door past the elevators of a luxury suburban hotel, there are bone-white, bone-shaped drywall sculptures that run the length from floor to ceiling.

There’s a foyer dangling with massive paper airplanes.

There’s the “Artist Coat Room” through that door.

Walking through that door, you’re crossing from hotel to art gallery meeting space, from rooms with names like #381 to rooms with names like The Cassatt Ballroom and Warhol.

You also crossed from Rosemont to Chicago. And here’s the story of how Chicago’s city limits run through the middle of a hotel.  » Read the rest of this entry «

It’s a moment that must be discussed in urban life. The lucky opening on a train or bus that turns out not to be.

It happened most recently on a train from O’Hare. A haul down the stairs they put up to replace the elevator a Blue Line crashed through. A jog down the path toward already dinging, about-to-leave ‘L’ cars. A last-minute heave through the doors into a crowded car with, somehow, two empty seats.

I hopped toward one of the seats, then hopped away before I sat down. I crossed to the other end of the car to stand next to a bicyclist who would ram people with wheels as his rolling machine sloshed around the train’s stops and starts.

It was as far as I could get from the empty, open seats. » Read the rest of this entry «

Two young women with rolling carts walked up at the O’Hare Blue Line station. They wore fresh smiles and gabbed happily in an Asian language I didn’t know.

“Does this go downtown? To the Forest Park?” one asked, pointing at the nearby car.

“Yes,” I said. “It does.”

Tag, I thought to myself as I lugged my own rolling cart two cars down. You’re it. » Read the rest of this entry «

“Wicker Park Sushi?” I said as we walked by the empty sushi counter.

“That doesn’t exist,” she said.

“I have seriously never been here.”

“I didn’t know they had a plane here.”

We stopped and looked at the WWII era replica airplane.

We were lost. In a place we had been a thousand times. » Read the rest of this entry «

In order to get to Kansas, I had to let a government worker touch my penis. » Read the rest of this entry «

“This is O’Hare, as far as this train goes. All passengers must leave the train. Thank you for riding the CTA Blue Line.” » Read the rest of this entry «