Heading out of the hotel, it was once again a very warm day in Chicago, but pretty windy as well. I was glad I had a hat because my hair was blowing all over the place. On the Blue line, the car was empty except for 3 homeless guys all passed out. Gotta love it.
I took the Blue to the Brown and got off at Sedgwick. In the city, Moody Church is my go to. I went to a lot of great suburban churches in my time living in Chicagoland, but those aren't realistic options thanks to distance and drastic internal changes. But Moody as more of a traditional feel without feeling antiquated. The service was excellent, mostly for the music. There was no choir as the pew remained empty. But it more of a ho down feel with a banjo and mandolin in the band. I swear I want this from so many churches. Enough with all the strobe lights, oversinging every chorus, and turning the drums up as loud as possible. Sometimes, it's good to just have some fun with praise music. The message was about the 5 mistakes believers make with Jesus. It ultimately comes down to accepting him to an extent. And I know I can be guilty of that.
So I snuck out during the final song. I thought I had to hurry to the train to get back to the stadium. It was about a 12 minute walk or so. Well I missed the Red line by about 3 minutes, so I may as well have stayed through the end. So I got to 35th St and walked back towards Guaranteed Rate Field. God, that name sucks. As I approached security, their staff stopped me. They said I could not enter because I had a drawstring bag. Now keep in mind, I entered with the same bag the previous day. But now because it had a drawstring, it was unacceptable. I guess they were afraid I could choke somebody out with the freaking string. I tried three gates and no one let me in. So I talked to a security director and he gave me no slack, no empathy, nothing. Just moved me along.
Feeling pissed off, upset, oppressed, whatever else you want to say, I decided to drink I took the Green line to Guinness. I ran into a couple of Mets fans and we had a fun chat. The New Zealand IPA was one awesome beer. Tropical without tasting too fruity. Sadly though, they had way too many sexuality flags displayed, plus they wanted to charge me $4.50 for a sticker. Kiss my ass, Guinness.
Anyway, the Mets won 2-0 and swept the series from the hapless White Sox. Now that it's been made personal, White Sox can kiss my ass too.
I took the train back and unwound for a bit while waiting to find out if I would actually see my friend Emily. I liked her for a long time, but I know nothing could ever happen. One, I'm not on her level. Two, 1500 miles are in between us. I hadn't heard from her in 24 hours so I was sure with each passing minute she would stand me up. But she did text back.
I guess I was nervous because I took advantage of the hotel's complimentary drink reception and ordered two glasses of red wine. They were Sutter Home, so I know we're not talking about Napa Valley here, but hey, a guy has to do what he has to when the objective is to appear calm, cool, and confident.
My friend Emily, who I've liked for a long time, even if I never felt worthy of her, met me at Slyce. This has always been a favorite restaurant of mine, with their coal fired pizzas, large salads, and roasted meatballs. And there just happened to be one next door to the Embassy Suites.
She did show up about an hour later than planned, but it was worth it. I don't believe we had seen each other since riding on the Metra back in 2016 or 2017. A lot of our talk was about fitness and running. And we wound up spending about three hours together. Hopefully it won't be 8 years until we see each other again.
No comments:
Post a Comment