Sometimes I know why I love this city.
On Friday night I drove back to school with a friend, getting off Interstate at almost 10. We stopped at a light next to the driver of a lovely black Lexus, a normal-looking guy in a neat button-up and classy felt fedora. We both watched as a taxi came from the right and turned into our street. Hanging out of the back seat window, upper half completely out like a dog tasting the air for the first time, was a young man in a full suit. I have no idea if he was hungover or just seeing Chicago at night for the first time, because he held up a hand and smirked at us. The Lexus driver awkwardly waved back at him as the taxi pulled through the intersection, because what are you supposed to do? Then Lexus looked over at us, and we stared back, and we all lifted our hands in a “what the haystacks?” shrug at the exact same time. And then burst out laughing and shaking our heads. It was one of those lovely moments when you have no idea what is going on and the world is crazy and hilarious and you’ve found another stranger who is as clueless as you are and you get to enjoy it at the same time.
Then the light turned green and we drove on our way down another beautiful Chicago street where you can’t see the stars but that is okay because there are many other things to find joy in.
Maybe missing you,