Around noon we say goodbye to Marie, who was a great host, by the way, and head towards Chicago.
The whole trip is uneventful except that we have to pay for a plethora of highways. As some of you may know, the vast majority of highways are free, but you find some that are not, and they're mostly in New York, New Jersey and California. And the one that leads to Chicago.
We get to the Windy City (aka Chicago) early in the evening. Our host Kent is not at home, but we spot a girl on the street and it turns out to be his roommate. She gets us in and there we're welcomed by Jackson.
Jackson is the craziest and most energetic dog I've seen in my life. He can't stop for a split second. Now, for a while it may be a great fun, but when you're sleeping on the inflating mattress on the floor then you're not so happy when Jackson runs all over you and start licking your face or feet or hands or any uncovered part of your body for that matter.
Anyway, Kent is back soonish and with him another CSer. He's Irish, tall and not very talkative.
Kent takes us to a great place called The Handlebar and I get the weirdest (but delicious) vegetarian meal I've ever had. Kent suggested it and he got the same, and my intuition usually tells me to listen to locals when food options are concerned.
From there we hop quickly to Reckless records and then some cheap bar for the rest of the evening. At least they have a great jukebox and I can't resist not to play some Buzzcocks and Clash. But there were many good options from Ramones to Elvis Costello to the Pixies and so on.
The rest of the night is spent trying to fall asleep with Jackson running all over me. In the middle of the night I wake up because the calm was surreal. I look to my left and there's Jackson, sleeping. I look at him in disbelief, when he opens his eyes. I close mine and pretend I'm sleeping. I guess it worked.
This is Jackson, THE dog.
This is Jackson, THE dog.
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