After a 3am bedtime, we knew a 9am arrival at the Willis Sky Deck was beyond ambitious. Rolling out of bed at 10:40 for our 11am brunch reservation, the day is already off to rough start. Charging down Rush St to make the 11am rez, (anyone who knows me knows I LOATHE being late) we be-bop into an EMPTY restaurant where I sheepishly admit to having a reservation. We sit down... it's lunch, not brunch. Our hungover hearts are set on eggs, so we decided to ditch the reservation.
OPH- too embarrassed to fully caption the name of the restaurant
BUT I'M STARVINNNNNNNNNNG...
Lark! Next door is a cute porch to a restaurant with a line out the door... but it seems to be moving quickly! Hey! I think we found a local hot-spot!! Things are lookin' up... Get in the door, read the menu of this so-called "Original Pancake House" and we sink yet again. Damn. DALLAS HAS ONE? No, actually Dallas has 3. UGH. We then convince ourselves this HAS to at least be the "Original" Original, right? After we score a spot outside, waitress tells us the Original is actually in Portland. OK, we're over you OPH, but at least your food was decent, and we got a spot in the sun.
ONWARD! Cue the Seinfeld episode:
Soo should we check out the Willis Sky Deck? Hmm sure. Where is it? No idea. Wait- is that Rajan Rhondo?! CELEB sighting! (Apparently... I still have no idea who that is). Anywho, we look up to our left, very tall building. Hmm... is that the Willis Sky Deck? Embarrassed... We ask a man holding a Macy's bag if it is. (Because locals DEFINITELY shop at Macy's...). "Haha. Yeah, thaaas it." Laugh at what helpless tourists we are and walk over... Um, thanks buddy. This is the Hancock Building (in retrospect, we should've just gone up, but we were SET on the Willis). Deflated, yet again, something magical happens... WE SEE "CHICAGO VISITORS CENTER" AND AT 12:30PM ON DAY 2, MARY CLAY AND CRAWFORD GET A MAP.
From here you'd think we get it together... Nope. We do however find our way to the Willis Sky Deck. Never seen so many people in a line in my life. Ladies and Gentlemen, who knew that Good Friday at 1pm = TOURISTS EVERYWHERE??? More prepared tourists than we are (CLEARLY), but tourists nonetheless. Sooo, we scrap it. From here it just gets hazy with us deciding to do one thing, then scrapping it, deciding to do another, then scrapping it... All while wandering pretty much aimlessly. Sounds miserable? You would think! However, we see so much of the city on accident, get a LOT of exercise, and just enjoy each others' company. Especially when I say things like, "UGH. I don't knowwwwwwww! YOU figure it out." Then immediately question any judgment call made. Pout. Whine. Repeat. (You are so patient, thank you dear Crawford). We do get some incredible views of the Lake and a great picture of us with the skyline, all before I have my one good idea of the entire day. "Why don't we walk into that bike shop and ask them for a cool bar around here."
Photo taken on the steps of the Field Museum... Chapter 17 in scrap, rinse, repeat.
Bike shop bro's pull through and lead us to the Wabash Tap, a charming dive of a joint with a delightful, Irish bar-keep named Mary (one name) showing the Masters on one TV and the Rangers v. White Sox on the other. Sierra Nevada is the beer of the day, and we are happy.
This is also where we meet _____, the nice man who gives us EVERY.DETAIL.EVER. about how to properly attend the Cubs game the following day. We're talking what time to wake up, breakfast spot on the way, trains & buses to take, approximate temperature decline due to where are seats are, instructions to go buy long underwear, where to buy them... This guy is a straight up sage on Wrigley. Whiiiiich is completely ironic because he is a huge White Sox fan. He also played baseball at Hahhhh-vard, has a keen sense of humor, and a strict 2 beer limit. So with his finale of advice to "drink beer" in order to fit in in Wrigleyville, I am instantly giddy for tomorrow.
Another long walk to the hotel to prepare for pre-dinner drinks with a view at Trump Terrace, a boozy shower, and a rushed cab ride to Trump... Sorry, the Terrace is closed. We do have a lovely bar area on our Mezzanine Level though! Nope. We want to SEE the cityyyyyyyy from up high, lady! Cab it to the Hancock. Think we've finally got it figured out... YET ANOTHER WINDING LINE. Give up. Go to a bar CMG's buddy suggests that is near our dinner reservation (Public House- very cool spot) and chalk it up as a loss in terms of "high-rise city views." Our RESERVATION (what a concept!) works out, the food at Hub 51* is delicious, and the drinks are even better. Of course I order GUACAMOLE in Chicago. It was superb though. Swear.
Hub 51
After finishing up, we look at each other and are spent. With our sights set on making our Saturday in Wrigleyville the BEST EVER, we end the funny, whirlwind of a day with peanut M&M's and a Peanut Butter Snickers bar. Annnnd scene. *Thank you to Kristin and Bailey for this (and other!) great recommendation!
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