“What are the odds that during the first 4/20 after Chicago legalized weed, everyone would be trapped inside?”
“Dumb luck, I suppose,” said Dania. “Although, isn’t the whole month technically 4-20 this year?”
“Huh.”
“What are the odds that during the first 4/20 after Chicago legalized weed, everyone would be trapped inside?”
“Dumb luck, I suppose,” said Dania. “Although, isn’t the whole month technically 4-20 this year?”
“Huh.”
“What are those?”
All four of them looked at the ceiling, festooned from wall to wall with decorations: presents on strings, a collection of DVD cases for holiday favorites, a ventilation pipe wrapped in string lights. Among the hanging décor, just to their left, were a pool of ornaments –– each consisting of a Santa hat, above a pair of Santa pants.
“It’s like a holly jolly dry cleaner,” Dania quipped.
Stepping out of the Uber, Eleanor looked around. It was late, and the lights from the midnight market illuminated the intersection of Diversey and Kedzie better than any of the dim streetlamps could. She glanced at the surrounding buildings –– none of them showed any indication of being Chicago’s hidden tiki bar.
The car sped away, leaving her stranded in the center of Logan Square. She quickly texted Dania. At the intersection. Where r u?
“So where’s this mystery location we’re going for lunch, Gwen?” asked Dania, as they hurried down LaSalle Drive.
“You’ll see,” Gwen said.
“You’ve checked about price and everything?” Eleanor asked. “I’m on a tight budget.”
“I’m aware, El,” Gwen responded. “It’s going to be just fine.”