Chicago 2

Today was fun. Running the table was fun, I met a few writers who assumed I was the editor of 1913 and had the pleasure (?) of hearing about what they were trying to get published.  I walked around the hundred+ tables of publishers, writing programs, and university presses collecting info on MFAs, buying literary journals, and snagging as much swag as I could. From noon till four, I was enjoying the community of writers swarming around the bookfair below the Hilton. 
Jenn, one of the crue, and I decided that we wanted some Chicago pizza and headed to Pequod's, a highly regarded pizzaria in the middle of the city. Hoe Lee Shit. A pepperoni and black olive pan pizza and a pitcher of Fat Tire made me a happy, happy boy. It was a fucking amazing pizza.
Since we paid a $20 cab fare to dinner, we decided to walk to the L to chepen our ride home.  During our walk, it began to snow. It was beautiful.  We walked through one of Chicago's shopping districts in search of the L's platform and ended up wandering through the city for two hours, following the elevated tracks, until we finally found the platform we needed.  Neither of us minded the adventure.
Our attempt at a chep trip to the hotel wound up being a three and a half hour journey through several districts of Chicago.  I enjoyed it--so did Jenn.  If she weren't married, I think I'd be in persuit.
When we got back to the hotel, we headed straight to the pub and drank. A few beers and a couple of shots later, it was two AM and I headed back to my hotel.  Good times, good talking... damn that ring on her finger.