The question isn't "what we are going to do", it's "what aren't we going to do?"

We knew Chicago was going to be an expensive visit, but we didn't know that the state of Illinois would be charging you just to get there. By the time we reached the city, we had already spent $7.90 in highway tolls! After a restful night at Extended Stayamerica, we took the bus to the metro station. An unfriendly bus driver offered up little to no information on which stop to exit the bus for the station. We decided to take our chances and jumped out upon seeing the train station a few blocks ahead. We were just discussing what a snatc-face our driver had been as we watched her turn directly into the station parking lot. She just smiled big and pretty as she exited and drove past us, still a block away on foot. So that's how you're gonna do us, huh, Chicago? 

Frustrated at the station we were unable to find a ticket that would allow us to ride all day, so we just bought a one-way pass. As the train was approaching I saw a metro map out of the corner of my eyes, I darted over to grab it and boarded the "L" train into the city. I opened the map to begin our plan of attack on Chicago and Kai says, "So, you couldn't find a map in English, huh?" It was at this time that I noticed that my entire subway map was in Espanol. I had in fact noticed the giant word "MAPAS" on the front, but I figured you probably just flipped it over for the English version. Not so. Luckily, Kai and I both have 2 years experience in high school Spanish and iPhones which we used to quickly bring up the subway map online. As we rode we heard the automated voice announcing stops and safety warnings. "Please remember there is no soliciting or gambling on the train." We laughed imagining the dice and craps games of the past, damn the man.

First stop was Wiener Circle for a hot dog in Lincoln Park as recommended by our virtual Chicago tour guide, Coco. Colleen aka Coco is my very, very good friend back in Anchorage who is originally from the south side of Chicago, so via text messages, she set up our whole day. We ordered the wiener "with everything" not really knowing what we were in for, but more just doing as we were told by our native guide. 'Everything' as it turns out, is three slices of tomato, a full pickle, several hot chiles, mustard, onions, relish, and a dash of celery salt. I think you needed a Chicaaaago sized mouth to fit it in, but we tried our damnedest.  

But I don't have any cash! Then I don't have wiener!

After our first Chi-town culinary experience we moved on by foot, bus, and train taking in the sights of Grant Park, the Buckingham Fountain, The Bean, the Art Institute, the Cubs and the Bears' stadiums, the Loop and the Magnificent Mile. We found ourselves in a state of culture shock to see ethnicities again after Oregon, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, and North and South Dakota. It was refreshing to be a part of a bustling city. Less refreshing was the 87 degree weather which the heat index put up to 91. We gladly rode the bus just to get the free air conditioning. 

While we had one bad experience with a disgruntled bus driver, we received overall, a great vibe from this city. We found the metro workers, and general blue collar peeps to be some of the nicest around. Nearly everywhere we went we were asked, "Do you need some help?" which solidified our opinion that the people of Chicago were very warm and, also, that we appeared very lost for the most part.

We stopped for street performers, a group of young black guys who had a well rehearsed and pretty funny script mixed with beat-boy dance moves and crowd interaction. They later hit you up for 5 or 10 bucks for the "free" entertainment. Moving along we gave money to a homeless man selling copies of The Onion newspapers for his shelter, and yet later when I had to make an emergency stop at Walgreens for feminine needs, we were thoroughly juiced for that purchase with a 9.75% sales tax. When I commented on the expense of the city, the clerk told me, "You came to the wroooong city, girl." Clearly we were not getting out of Chicago for cheap.

Luckily at the Walgreens we were able to buy the all day ride pass for a reasonable $5.75 which allowed us to the ride bus and metro to our hearts content for the next 24 hours. After several bus rides it was decided that the city bus drivers are the only unfriendly people in town, almost as if it was a requirement before being hired on: Do you have a commercial drivers license? Do you have good hearing and eye sight with or without corrective lenses? Are you rude and do you mumble and scowl frequently? Great! You're hired to be a driver for the Chicago Transit Authority!

That night we headed back to Skokie, IL tired and wiped out from a full day of big city sight seeing. We couldn't leave Chicago without eating a deep dish Chicago style pizza though. We decided to go for Coco's number 2 recommendation for pizza as we had already left the city. Giordano's is a local Chicago chain that opened back in the 1970's and they seemed legit with lots of Chicago history up on the walls and an Italian theme throughout. http://www.giordanos.com/

As I ordered I wondered if the owner had any relation to that creepy guy Gary Giordano who may or may not have recently murdered that woman in Aruba... We ordered a medium, which is typically the perfect amount to provide us with a filling meal and a day after snack. The Ukrainian waitress didn't really go with the whole theme, but she was incredibly nice as she dropped off the biggest, thickest, deepest, juiciest pizza we had ever seen. I don't know how her thin Eastern European arms even carried that thing to the table without assistance. We pushed through and had two slices each just to make a dent. I texted our tour guide in anger that she hadn't warned us that this pizza was the size of Rhode Island. Evidently, one slice is enough. So we packed it up in a to-go box thicker than a moving box and schlepped it back to the hotel. 

Sadly we didn't have enough time to see Hugh Hefner's place or where Abe Froman, the Sausage King of Chicago dines... we could've spent all week in Chicago just in search of John Hughes' movie scenes, gorging on pizza and wieners, but Motor City was calling us.