I left the office a bit after 3 and already the show was coming down hard. The train pulled into the station almost as soon as I got there. I got off at State/Lake and made my way to Borders without getting hit by too much snow. I killed some time browsing around the place without buying anything (some cool calendars this year; more rabid conservative books in print than I think I’ve ever seen). Then I dashed across the street to Marshall Fields for more window shopping. My plan was to make my way south from department store to department store and thus avoid the craziness and slush outside. It was beautiful to watch though. Almost a whiteout at certain moments, cars going every which way, snow people silently leaping over the drifts piling up on each curb.

Marshall Fields was really nice. I would say oddly comforting. I didn’t buy anything, but I had fun wandering around the basement level and examining expensive kitchen items (I thought of you, Ben) and frou-frou Holiday cards (already 20% off).

When I was done there, I crossed the street to Carson Pirie Scott. It was a little quieter there, and the perfume counters had little groups of two or three ladies standing around and chatting. Some sort of booty Christmas music was playing.

It was nearly 5 o’clock, so I crossed the street once more to Monroe. The show was falling so thickly that it was disorienting. I made my way to the Palmer House canopy and the giant tiki guarding the entrance to Trader Vic’s. I descended via the escalator to its basement paradise.

The place was jumping. Happy Hour. And in the Luau Room, there was some loud party going on (out-of-towners? Holiday Party?) Brandon had not yet arrived, so I took a seat in the foyer and read a little of “Typee.” How about that.

Brandon came a bit later, exhilarated by the snow. Our hostess had a hard time finding a place for us at first, the bar was so packed. And there’s the crux of what rankles me the most about the looming closure of Trader Vic’s. A 48-year old historically-significant, still-popular establishment is being closed simply because it does not fit into the business plan of the hotel’s new corporate owner. And what is going to be built in the space that Trader Vic’s currently occupies? MORE RETAIL SPACE! Because that’s EXACTLY what the Loop needs: MORE retail space. Mark my words, the venture will fail. People will not shop in a hidden warren that isn’t even noticeable from street level. And a few years from now, the stupid corporate owners will close down all the shops which have failed and … install a RESTAURANT. Which is what is there RIGHT NOW. Idiots.

Anyhow we were seated and our harried, somewhat eccentric waiter took our drink order. It took a good 15-20 minutes to arrive, the bar was so busy. Our drinks came steaming hot in two huge ceramic skull mugs, and Brandon’s was on fire. He had a Black Stripe (hot rum with spices, cinnamon stick, cloves and cherries) and I had the famous Hot Buttered Rum. Mine was simply delicious. I easily could have had three or four, if I hadn’t been compelled to maintain an appearance of discretion.

Later on we ordered hamburgers, quite tasty. We ended up having only two rounds, but were there for a few hours and had a really good conversation about a variety of things (including work, cooking, my new manuscript, roommates, growing up, and what 2006 may hold).

I was hardly buzzed by the time we left. Brandon snapped a few pictures of the snow and then we went below ground to catch the Red Line. The train arrived almost immediately. It sure was great to forgo the nightmare of street travel. I said goodbye to Brandon at Belmont and wrestled my way through the drifts until I was home. Good cardio. The streets wee so empty you would have thought it was about midnight. But it was just after 8 o’clock; from door to door took less than 45 minutes.

Andy was not so lucky. After class he caught a 146 “express” bus and was stuck on it for over an hour, creeping north on Lake Shore Drive sandwiched in with various cranky yuppies. But that’s his own story to tell.