So, Chicago.
During a record-breaking cold spell.
We had grandiose plans of walking everywhere, seeing everything. And we did, really. The condensed version...the highlighted attractions, if you will...
Well...Starbucks, mainly.
Sub-zero windchills and cappuccino form a couple, I discovered, of a knit closer than both bread and butter
and peanut butter and jelly. The relationship might even rival cheese and crackers. Fortuitously, as Nick advised, there was a branch at nearly every corner...hell, we visited three of them on the same avenue alone.
And, speaking of which, our hotel was located right on the Michigan Avenue.
Nice. Particularly with all those Starbucks. I typically take my coffee with a packet of Splenda, which Nick noted from our first meeting. Shortly thereafter, he purchased a box of Splenda packets to keep at his condo for my coffee-drinking pleasure. In a quiet moment there in the earlier days or our acquaintance, he feathered his fingertips along my jaw and said, "I don't know what I'd do without you." At a loss for words with which to reply, I remained taciturn and became glassy-eyed. "I have all this Splenda," he continued, by way of explanation.
Ok, ok...so
sometimes, he's humorous. Just not when he beats me to a punchline.
It was a beautiful hotel, getting back to topic, and it managed to incur joy on the part of my companion. I had worried that Nick would be depressed all weekend due to unfortunate timing with the Ticketmaster in charge of scouring Chicagoland for weak-minded individuals whose arms could be twisted into exchanging currency to see BB King perform live at The House of Blues that weekend. It was a sore point that his weak mind had been passed over.
But, and don't let this spread too rampantly (or do, and just don't let him know that you have), Nick's easy: the plush terrycloth robe provided with the room perked him considerably. That, and other little touches. I'm sure that inside of 5 minutes he was thinking, "BB-who? Forget that! The end of the toilet paper is folded!"