The Corners of Chicago

Chicago has a few streets where, when the wind is blowing the right way, you can smell chocolate on the air from a local factory. The first time I caught the scent I was on the back of a motorcycle. It wasn't the safest or the most conventional way to see a city, but so far it was the best way I had tried. I slipped my cold hands into the pockets of my driver’s leather jacket as the scent of the chocolate factory was snatched away in the wind. The night was already dark and I was freezing from the cold air hitting my bare arms, and simultaneously giddy from the rumble of the engine, our speed and the apprehension of our destination. As we continued downtown, small buildings merged into skyscrapers which rose up before us and then dropped behind as we flew passed. As the buildings ebbed and fell the city of Chicago had an almost dreamlike quality.

Minutes later the bass of the music thumped against my chest as I leaned again a pillar in the middle of a blackened room. I held my glass of gin and tonic close to my face and sucked quickly through the straw, eyeing the room as I did. My friend came up behind me. “Lower your drink, holding it that high makes you look nervous”. No shit. I was at a swingers club for the first time. Since moving to Chicago I had taken a rather movie-like approach of saying ‘yes’ to every opportunity that arose, and tonight’s ‘opportunity’ had led me here – the basement of a not-quite-downtown bar. Its neighborhood was boisterous and drunk - a tourist and local favourite. But this bar was altogether different. People moved slowly and drank quickly. They lounged in corners and surveyed the floor, or approached couples with dark eyes and bright smiles. I had no idea what to expect before arriving, and 10 minutes in I felt just as curious, ten times more nervous and even more out of place.

I found my mind wandering to a bar two doors up which served layered beer, half larger and half stout. The drink was served in a tankard-style glass and I couldn’t work out if I enjoyed the novelty, taste or just the way it looked. I brought my mind back into the room and finished my gin. I bought another from a bartender wearing a black leather dog collar around his neck who made me feel under(over?)dressed. I was intercepted by my friend who pulled me towards the squishy leather couches. My mind lingered on the layered beer a moment longer, before I turned my mind back to gin and the deep beat of the music.