I think my feet are broken.
I’m certainly no slouch to walking places, but 8-10 miles already in one day may be beyond my limit. I managed to make my way from Union Station to the Leo Burnett building on the north end of downtown with no problems. Unfortunately, my friends were in meetings, leaving me just WALKING to kill time.
We ended up having a pretty decent lunch, at a place a few blocks away. It was short, since they had to hustle back to work, and I was once again on my own. I headed even further north, along Michigan Ave. and toward the towering Hancock building. Store after store passed me by; something is surely wrong with me if the most commercial street in Chicago has me yawning.
Hmm, my pockets feel funny….
Yep. No wallet.
A while ago, I purchased this Jimi Wallet to replace my credit-card destroying old leather wallet. So where did my NEW wallet go?
Ah, yes. It was on that tray I had my trash on at the restaurant. You’d think I’d be throwing up over this realization, but I was unnaturally calm. Do I just not care about this sort of disaster?
So I turn right around, walking all the way back to the restaurant. I ask the cashiers if they found one and they give me a head shake. The horizontal kind.
But the bartender shook his head in the vertical sense and handed me my wallet.
To be perfectly honest, I’d be having much more fun with someone. Anyone, really. Everyone dresses nicely; my black tshirt and brown cords might as well be gutter punk attire. Which it might be.
I’m also getting angry every time I click the shutter on my camera; skylines are cool for about 2 or 3 photos. I need to find something more Chicago to picture.