Tales of Chicago Natalie: Part 3 – Friday Night
Alllright! Time to wrap up Friday! Things definitely get more and more interesting as the night progresses…
After our anchor tattoos were firmly wrapped in some saran wrap, we tooted back to the hotel to get ready. Hops and I were pretty excited to be our “Chicago” alternate personalities… so we got pretty radically hipstered up and thought we were preeetttty cool. First stop was The Bristol for dinner. We had heard some good things about it and it was down the street from the bar(s) that we were looking to stop by later on that night, so it worked out well.
We had drinks and delicious olives in the upstairs bar, then a fantastiche cheese plate.
Thank GOD the Cook County department of health is looking out for me. If they didn’t inform me that consuming raw or uncooked food “may, in fact… end my life.” I would be eating enough raw fruits and vegetables to kill an Olympic soccer team:
However, the best part of The Bristol was the hauted toilet paper in the bathroom. It had an intense desire to lick the rim of the toilet seat:
A few glasses of wine got things warmed up and we took a trip down the strip to find a dive bar. A couple of interesting attractions along the way:
Chicago Pam apparently spends much of her time hackin buts like a Kentuckian at a police auction:
After a few duds, we ended up at Beachwood, which was pretty relaxed. But the BEST PART of Beachwood was that they were playing Terminator 2: Judgement Day on the TV, which is one of my TOP 5 MOVIES of all time.
“Don’t go in there! The fire has set off the Halon system!”
(Next line? Arnie comes out of the smoke with two gas masks and hands them to Sarah Conor and Miles Dyson… ”Here.. put diis on.”)
Apparently Pam is not a fan of the film… as her middle finger would indicate:
We met a couple of guys at the bar – all of whom were obviously enamoured with Pam and followed her around like puppies. One guy was pretty cool… although he was drawing pictures of horny monsters while sitting at the bar… Like, monsters with multiple horns.. not monster desirous of sex… here I am taking an awkward picture with him in the background. He is not impressed…
About this time, Natalie could be heard to say “Chicago Natalie wants to BLOW IT UP! Let’s bounce, sucka!”
When we left, Pam could be seen hackin’ a but (check out that guy eye-raping her caboose…):
So… this is where things got fuzzy. We went to the Flat Iron, which is open until 4… it really kind of sucks. We felt like we were at a college bar that caters to mid-30 year-olds who have not grown beyond their college years. We saw multiple examples of the following:
- Jeans with Reeboks
- Button-down, darted Anne Klein dress shirts, untucked… perhaps with some embroidery at the breast pockets…
- Flip-flops with “wedge heels”
- Flared Silver Jeans with whiskers
- Crystallized hoop earrings
- “Bar Tops” (ladies, you know what I’m talking about… those tops you used to buy about 7 years ago at Sirens to wear to the bar… all nylon-y and titlicious… perhaps with a pink “wavy” pattern on it…)
So, we made the best of a bad situation and got demolished:
“Hey, Chicago Pam! You know what would be a totally pithy and creative thing to write on the chalk board that is currently being used to keep score in an active pool game? OUR NAMES!!”
And now, I should probably eat the chalk.
They had a photo booth in the bar. Which is awesomeness and dangerousness all wrapped into a ball of glorious embarrassment:
Let’s skip forward to about 4:30, when we leave the bar. First, Pam needs to hack a but:
Then, we grab a cab to get back to the hotel. Let’s go through the conversation Pam and I are clearly having:
So, at 5 a.m., we come into the lobby like a tornado, completely accosting the (very, very, very cute) bellhop and all-night concierge to ask them where to eat. In retrospect, it seems like we talked to them for like 2 hours before leaving to go to the restaurant, which was appropriately called “Eggsperience”. Along the way, we passed a lonely motorcycle. Then I became a chick from an 80′s hair video.
We got to Eggsperience and were disgusting monsters. Although we definitely needed this:
As we consumed our eggs, we realized that the very, very, very cute bellhop left us a secret message in the directions he wrote. Apparently we told him that we got tattoos. Over and over and over again:
On the way home, because we wanted to thank the concierge and the bellhop, we decided to steal flowers from all over the city and give them a bouquet. But not before butterin’ some bread and taking it to go:
What a gorgeous bouquet!
But I think it needs a huge spring of wheat:
Here you are completely sober Concierge-Man! Aren’t you glad we picked a bouquet of rotting flowers for you?
Awwwww, the very, very, very cute bellhop wasn’t there because it was 5:45 am and he had to go DELIVER THE MORNING PAPER to someone. Jesus, it was 5:30 am. So we left his bouquet at his bellhop station:
Apparently, we found out later that they kept both bouquets and put them in a vase for the whole next day. Unfortunately, we were so incredibly mortified the next morning that we scuttled out of the lobby like silverfish shooting under your fridge after you turn the kitchen light on.
Sigh. Tomorrow – the last chapter of the Tales of Chicago Natalie. What will you hear about? Some more vintage finds, the discovery of two VERY hot chicks in Chicago, and our mysterious entry into a parallel universe where no one needs food. Stay tuned!