There is No Place Called Chicago; Chicago is a State of Mind
So, last night I got back from my trip to Chicago, which was surprisingly enjoyable. So I've decided to write this post to elucidate the details.
It all began Tuesday evening, when I flew out to Chicago. I got to the airport in plenty of time, and there weren't any hangups there, though I will say I'm glad I started wearing a pair of slip-on shoes not too long ago. I'm sure anyone who's been through airport security lately will understand why.
So getting onto my flight was no problem, though the flight itself was probably the most turbulent I've been on yet. The flight attendants weren't able to serve drinks to everyone on the plane, but they got to my row before they had to sit down. I poured myself a glass of 7Up just in time for a huge jostle to knock the rest of my soda can onto the floor next to my seat. Hooray. So the bottom of my shoes are still sticky. Fortunately, the guy in the middle seat had moved elsewhere at the beginning of the flight, so no one else got soaked. The rest of the flight reminded me of some amusement park rides I've been on. We made it to Chicago safely, however, so I hopped into a shuttle to the hotel.
I'm still not sure which was more harrowing, the flight in, or the shuttle ride to the hotel.
But, nevertheless, we made it to the hotel safely and I checked in with no trouble. The room was a little smaller than others I've stayed in, but maybe that's just because it was in the middle of downtown Chicago, whereas every other hotel I've stayed at was located in a more suburban environment. Also, it seemed like every damn thing in the room had a price tag on it, and a ridiculously expensive one, at that. But I didn't steal any linens or make use of the minibar, so I guess it was okay.
There wasn't much else for me to do, plus I was pretty tired from working and travelling all day, so I just went to bed relatively early Tuesday night so's I could get up in time for class. Which I did. They also served breakfast for the people attending the seminar, but all they had were some muffins, bagels, cereal and fruit. I was expecting some pastries or something, but I guess I shouldn't complain since I wasn't ultimately paying for any of it anyway.
After breakfast, the SPC class I signed up for started. It was all right, but I won't bore you with the details. There were 12 people in the class, and during the breaks and whatnot I managed to converse at least a little bit with all of them at some point. Early on, however, I established the best rapport with Ignacio and Milissa, from New Mexico. During the lunch break, some of the folks some of the people who lived around Chicago recommended a few places to eat, and I managed to finangle my way into the group heading to Giordano's later in the evening. The group included the pair from New Mexico, Katherine from Florida, myself, and Jason, Milissa's boyfriend (damn! No hitting on anyone tonight...)
So we all went out and had some good old Chicago-style pizza and fine conversation, which was a great time overall. After dinner, I went with Ignacio to see "Syriana," but apparently the theatre wasn't showing it, so we saw "Hostel" instead. I didn't want to see it, but he didn't want to see "King Kong," so I had to make a concession.
If you want to know what I thought of "Hostel," I'll say this; if you're in the mood to see plenty of drugs, sex, and violence, then I'd highly recommend it. If, on the other hand, you'd prefer to watch something with any artistic value, I'd recommend you look elsewhere. But what do you expect from Quentin Tarrantino? (The correct answer is: drugs, sex, and violence.)
So that was Wednesday night. On Thursday night I went out again with the same group, less Katherine, who had some previous engagement. The remaining four of us, however, caught a cab and headed to the Second City theatre where we saw "Iraqtile Dysfunction." Again, it was a great time, and I picked up the tab as a friendly gesture (also since Ignacio paid for my ticket.) Then we all went back to our respective hotels and rested up for the last half-day of class.
Class got out early on Friday, so I got to the airport at about 12:00 for a 3:00 flight. Also, security had to scan my bag twice, then searched it briefly, I think because I had my keys in there, but I'm not really sure. And then the flight was delayed for about 45 minutes. So I spent a lot of time in the airport waiting. But I made it home safely, and now here I am.
So what have we learned?
1) David's back from Chicago.
2) Business trips are actually pretty cool.
3) Forget SPC, deep-dish pizza is the real reason to go to Chicago.
It's been a while, but now I can finally sleep under my own warm sandwiches and cool sheets.
It all began Tuesday evening, when I flew out to Chicago. I got to the airport in plenty of time, and there weren't any hangups there, though I will say I'm glad I started wearing a pair of slip-on shoes not too long ago. I'm sure anyone who's been through airport security lately will understand why.
So getting onto my flight was no problem, though the flight itself was probably the most turbulent I've been on yet. The flight attendants weren't able to serve drinks to everyone on the plane, but they got to my row before they had to sit down. I poured myself a glass of 7Up just in time for a huge jostle to knock the rest of my soda can onto the floor next to my seat. Hooray. So the bottom of my shoes are still sticky. Fortunately, the guy in the middle seat had moved elsewhere at the beginning of the flight, so no one else got soaked. The rest of the flight reminded me of some amusement park rides I've been on. We made it to Chicago safely, however, so I hopped into a shuttle to the hotel.
I'm still not sure which was more harrowing, the flight in, or the shuttle ride to the hotel.
But, nevertheless, we made it to the hotel safely and I checked in with no trouble. The room was a little smaller than others I've stayed in, but maybe that's just because it was in the middle of downtown Chicago, whereas every other hotel I've stayed at was located in a more suburban environment. Also, it seemed like every damn thing in the room had a price tag on it, and a ridiculously expensive one, at that. But I didn't steal any linens or make use of the minibar, so I guess it was okay.
There wasn't much else for me to do, plus I was pretty tired from working and travelling all day, so I just went to bed relatively early Tuesday night so's I could get up in time for class. Which I did. They also served breakfast for the people attending the seminar, but all they had were some muffins, bagels, cereal and fruit. I was expecting some pastries or something, but I guess I shouldn't complain since I wasn't ultimately paying for any of it anyway.
After breakfast, the SPC class I signed up for started. It was all right, but I won't bore you with the details. There were 12 people in the class, and during the breaks and whatnot I managed to converse at least a little bit with all of them at some point. Early on, however, I established the best rapport with Ignacio and Milissa, from New Mexico. During the lunch break, some of the folks some of the people who lived around Chicago recommended a few places to eat, and I managed to finangle my way into the group heading to Giordano's later in the evening. The group included the pair from New Mexico, Katherine from Florida, myself, and Jason, Milissa's boyfriend (damn! No hitting on anyone tonight...)
So we all went out and had some good old Chicago-style pizza and fine conversation, which was a great time overall. After dinner, I went with Ignacio to see "Syriana," but apparently the theatre wasn't showing it, so we saw "Hostel" instead. I didn't want to see it, but he didn't want to see "King Kong," so I had to make a concession.
If you want to know what I thought of "Hostel," I'll say this; if you're in the mood to see plenty of drugs, sex, and violence, then I'd highly recommend it. If, on the other hand, you'd prefer to watch something with any artistic value, I'd recommend you look elsewhere. But what do you expect from Quentin Tarrantino? (The correct answer is: drugs, sex, and violence.)
So that was Wednesday night. On Thursday night I went out again with the same group, less Katherine, who had some previous engagement. The remaining four of us, however, caught a cab and headed to the Second City theatre where we saw "Iraqtile Dysfunction." Again, it was a great time, and I picked up the tab as a friendly gesture (also since Ignacio paid for my ticket.) Then we all went back to our respective hotels and rested up for the last half-day of class.
Class got out early on Friday, so I got to the airport at about 12:00 for a 3:00 flight. Also, security had to scan my bag twice, then searched it briefly, I think because I had my keys in there, but I'm not really sure. And then the flight was delayed for about 45 minutes. So I spent a lot of time in the airport waiting. But I made it home safely, and now here I am.
So what have we learned?
1) David's back from Chicago.
2) Business trips are actually pretty cool.
3) Forget SPC, deep-dish pizza is the real reason to go to Chicago.
It's been a while, but now I can finally sleep under my own warm sandwiches and cool sheets.
posted by David R. Nevel | 3:45 PM
1 Comments:
Agha! I am furiously delighted that you had Giordano's. I just found out that you can order a frozen pizza from them and have it shipped to you, I'm sorely tempted to do that. Glad you got to Second City too, I've only seen two of their revues ("Thank Heavens It Wasn't 7/11" and one other) and they were both solid.
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