Other people get wasted in bars or in their own home. But my roommate took me to the awesomest and somehow scariest place in the entire city. Granted, awesomest isn't actually a word, but it fit my syntax. My inner nerd is showing.
Needless to say, the Chicago Brauhaus (or "bra house", as I kept calling it) is incredibly bizarre and somehow one of Chicago's hidden treasures. You probably won't find it on any official lists saying that, though.
And they didn't even card me!!!! Shayna just said it was my birthday and the waitress believed us! Hot damn! It's ok, I had to prove my age when we went out just after midnight the night before. First birthday drink was a chocolate cake shot at Hamburger Mary's.
After the restaurant, we had to say goodbye to Hilary, then headed to a bar only to discover that Shayna had forgotten her ID. WHAT??? I KNOW!! (Craig Ferguson reference).
So we took a taxi as our literal "wrinkle in time" back to the apartment so she could get it. The wrinkle in time thing probably doesn't make much sense. Except that it does... we would have had to go down and up on the train, but the taxi just takes us straight across.
That still probably doesn't make much sense.
After retrieving Shayna's ID from the clutches of some horrible being trapped behind the mattress against the wall, we headed over to a bar just down the street from our apartment. And I reminisced over the sweet, sweet taste of Belgian beer... before tragically spilling my last sip all over the table. Life is so cruel.
Our night ended with watching Craig Ferguson on the "telly" back in our apartment. Yet I somehow missed the entire episode. I just know that a naked French pole vaulter was the hot topic of the night.
1 liter
Shayna is wonderful, but she doesn't know how to work my camera. Yet.To clarify... there is a sparkler sticking out of my strudel and the entire restaraunt is singing to me. Well, they probably weren't.
Birthday party.
Drink is finished. Beer goggles on.
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