CHICAGO: Part 1 - The First Taste
Chicago… Concrete jungle where dreams are made of. There’s nothing you can’t do. And we did pretty much everything. Been about a week since I left the Windy City, and I still miss it. I miss the streets. I miss the food… and I miss my dear cousin, sweet-dimpled Darrell…
The following is what went down in the city I can call my birthplace. (technically I was born in Libertyville, which is about an hour away but fuck it. Butt fuck it.)
Our adventure begins…
The First Night. We arrived at O’Hare Airport and waited. The anticipation was killer. No idea what to expect from this great big town. Darrell pulled up with my older cousin Ate Tracy in the passenger seat. His urgency was apparent in the way he shoved our bags into the trunk with barely a word. First thing I noticed was his hair. I later learned he requested his barber to cut his hair like those badasses in Inglourious Basterds. The barber got it dead on. The car was quiet. We drove around in circles, made a couple U-turns, navigated through some windy roads until finally we arrived at a freeway. “There it is,” Darrell said. He then turned around to us (me, Len, and my sisters scrunched up in the back seat) and smiled enthusiastically, “HEY GUYS!! Welcome to Chicago!!!” We laughed. Turned out he had a really hectic day. With the wedding coming and all, and his being the only brother of the bride to be, he was the official errand boy of the family. On top of that, some jerk parked a car right in front of his garage before he left to pick us up.
We arrived at his apartment. A cozy place nestled in a cute corner of Chicago called Logan Square. We were to stay in the downstairs area, in Darrell’s room and in the adjacent living space they hope to turn into a parlor room. As we marched downstairs, the ceiling was lower, creating the impression that we were getting bigger. The Imagination song from Willy Wonka sneaked its way into my brain because of this… which would last throughout the duration of the trip.
Darrell called us to head upstairs for a bite to eat. Him and Ate Tracy saved us some pizza from the rehearsal dinner: Lou Malnati’s Chicago Style Deep Dish. I bit into the sausage deep dish pizza and instantly, the spirit of Chicago filled my veins.
This was my first taste of Chicago… and it tasted wonderful.
The next morning… we would venture out to see the City.
To be continued…
