St.Patricks Day in Chicago was a night to remember. Roomie and I intentionally walked up Clark, not to wedge ourselves into an overpacked bar, but to see just how batsh*t the city had become. I like this picture not only because no-one is passing out, but see that shiny man in the center? That poor city employee spending the night wrangling drunkins? He. Is a hero. To us all.
This week, however, Chicago is a ghost town. I'm sure there are just as many people as before, but they're not hanging out with me. Boo. Lonesome sucks.
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