Today’s travels were filled with more than a few vagaries: scrupulous security at the airport (yes, ma’am those are Canadian fives in my pocket); overlong hallways in the hotel (didn’t bring a GPS to relocate the elevator); the need to make two, instead of just one, trip to to get a cell phone (can’t carry my work one across the border).
But after that, I set out with a friend to get from point A to point B (with GPS) and we managed to find C and D before getting our heads screwed on. It was almost as if the streets of Chicago had morphed into Anytown USA and wouldn’t let us bat our way back to specificity. But we did, recovered our spirits–and took some in–at the Peninsula’s bar and then tried to collect supper.
We walked, on the theory that something would appear. And, eventually it did. How were we know that it was an unusual something until we were well inside? Tilted Kilt, Pub and Eatery sounds pretty tame. Not so much. The kilts aren’t titled; they’ve abridged nearly into invisibility, aren’t kilts at all because they’re on women not men, and, best feature of all: these people don’t record on cameras. Eo ipso: they must be vampires.
We both gave it a shot, or two or three or four. But these wait staff were not recordable.
And, oddly, my caesar salad had no garlic in the dressing…..
