When Beaner and I first arrived in Chicago we stopped in the Sky Club. She was amazed by the fact that it was a self-serve bar. “Chicago, where you serve yourself,” she said then and repeated a few times throughout the trip. The day we headed home we decided to stop and get a sling so that TSA wouldn’t give me any heat about my arm.
We purchased the sling and then headed to a bar for one last drink (or two) in the City of the Big (and one broken) Shoulders. As the bartender made us drinks he shared stories of other patrons’ injuries and the lady sitting next to us shared a story about a similar ‘trip’ she took last year. Just like Chicago after the Great Fire of 1871, the lady and the other patrons ‘rebuilt.’ Knowing this gave me hope as Beaner and I hustled to the airport and through TSA in time to stop by the Sky Club one last time.
As we walked into the Sky Club I asked Beaner, “Was this the sky club we visited?” “I don’t think so,” she said and added, “It doesn’t look familiar.” Just then then woman at the front desk greeted us, “Welcome, weren’t you two here two days ago?” “Guess it is the same Sky Club,” Beaner observed. We then headed to the back and I, literally, began slingin’ drinks. “Chicago, where you serve yourself,” said Beaner and we toasted to a town we literally blew through, Chicago, The Windy City!