I went out to eat with Mrs. TBF and her work colleagues last Wednesday evening at a place called Roy's. During dinner, a few of her colleagues asked me what I had planned for the next day. "I don't know...the schedule's not out yet..." was my typical response. When we go somewhere, I prefer not to plan everything down to the last minute. Instead, I like to "go with the flow". There are many factors to consider - weather, how I feel, what time I wake up, etc.
So, Thursday morning rolled around, I looked out the window and faced beautiful blue skies, and I decided that a boat cruise on the Chicago River to take in Chicago's great architecture would fit the bill.
The verdict??? Excellent! It was 90-minutes of blue skies, great scenery, and tons-o-info from a tour guide that had to be pushing ninety years old. I just can't believe how much the city has changed in the last five years since we moved to die Schweiz!
After the tour, and still being in the tourist mindset, I walked a few blocks, and parked myself at an outdoor table at Pizzeria Uno for a little deep-dish pizza. Mrs. TBF HATES their pizza - and I have to admit that it's not the best Chicago has to offer - but it was convenient. And, I was kind of into the whole "taking in Chicago through the eyes of the tourist" thing.
About one-minute after my pizza had been plunked down in front of me, I heard some mumbling over my right shoulder. I turned to find a very gaunt homeless man saying something to me. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?". All he said was something like: "MMMM-mmm slice-a pizza." "You want a slice of my pizza?", I asked him. He nodded. It was too much for me to eat anyway, so I handed him a slice. He took a bite, thanked me, then proceeded to flag down the waiter...TO ASK HIM FOR A NAPKIN. I guess he didn't want to get grease on one of the three winter coats he was wearing.
A couple of hours later, we checked out of the hotel and took off for Dave and Shannon's house for dinner. We even made it in time to see little Stella before she went to bed.
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