Note: Later on the week (hopefully) I will explain the who, what, when, where, why, and how of our recent trip to Chicago. For now enjoy these tidbits from my travels around the city and on the CTA Train aka the Subway: a foreign form of transportation this Southern California girl has never used before having grown up in a car on a freeway.
Things I saw on the Subway:
A twenty-something year old girl in hunched in the corner of the train, dressed like a hipster, and swigging out of a bottle wrapped in a paper bag. Classy.
9,000 people jovially crammed into the train having just seen Bruce Springsteen perform at Wrigley Field.
A woman carrying a black, neon pink, yellow, and lime green serape.
Lots of women in ankle boots, low-slung messenger bags, and expertly-draped sweaters.
Girls in ballet flats, carrying shopping bags from mall brand stores, and looking fashionably despondent.
A dude with the same model of phone as me and I have dinosaur phone with minimum features so I was amused.
A runner who had participated in the Chicago Half Marathon and 5K run on Sunday.
A dude with a VHS tape from a branch of the Chicago Public Library.
People taking the train from the airport looking tired and annoyed at their fellow passengers.
A passenger reading a Haruki Murakami novel.
Things I didn't see on the Subway because I saw them somewhere else:
A bicyclist hit the back of a taxi that had stopped suddenly.
A frustrated motorist pick a fight with a limo driver who was stopped at the curb waiting for his fare: a group of frat-looking boys crossing the street just as the verbal altercation was wrapping up.
Two hitchhikers abusing their dog as they walked through downtown. They were amused that people were side-stepping widely around them. One of them laughed and said something about fear and all of us around getting quiet. I wanted to take their dog he was the only scared creature within a five foot radius.
Residents letting their young children dawdle behind them on busy downtown streets.
A person of indeterminate gender showering or dressing behind a frosted glass window in a third story apartment next to a bar we briefly visited. I wanted to ask the bartender if that person did that regularly. I would have liked to whisper to David what I was seeing but I didn't. Had I done that the whole table of boys I was with would have noticed I was being secretive. They would have erupted into a chorus of, "Wait, what!? Where?! Nooo. You're imagining things!" as they all would scramble out of their chairs to gawk at what I was talking about.
*This list will be updated as observations come back to me.
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