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Last weekend I went into the great city of Chicago to help my buddy Devon Sharma celebrate his being accepted to the New York Bar. (We were also celebrating his brother’s completion of medical school. Smart family, the Sharmas.) A bunch of us were invited to Maggiano’s in Oak Brook for Saturday afternoon.

I arrived at Tom’s apartment around 7:30 Friday night. Since the Blackhawks were about to start, we ordered some Indian food for delivery and settled in to watch some hockey. I gave Tom a hard time for eating with his left hand as we devoured the chicken tikka masala and tandoori chicken. The Blackhawks destroyed the villainous Canucks 7–4, and Tom and I decided to go out and meet up with our cousins Kelly and Kara.

Since we’ve gone out with Kelly and Kara before, I know many of their friends, but certainly haven’t met them all. That night my memory failed me, as I was talking to a girl whom I thought I was meeting for the first time. When she told me that we’d met before, I told her there was “no way I’d forget such a pretty face.” Unfortunately, she was quite sure I had done just that. (So much for that line… and of course I still don’t remember the girl’s name and will probably repeat the embarrassment next time I meet her.)

Saturday morning we woke up to Raff making breakfast. After eating breakfast burritos, we started getting ready to head out to Oak Brook. Nate Smith and Chris McCann picked us up around 1:00, which we thought would be plenty of time to arrive fashionably late to the 1:30 affair.

Unfortunately, the Illinois Department of Transportation foiled our attempt at timeliness, having shut down many of the Eisenhower lanes for construction. We reconsidered and took a more southerly route, but we arrived quite late and significantly under-dressed. (I suggested earlier in the week that we suit up, or at least wear jackets and slacks, but no, everyone was quite sure that jeans and a polo would be quite appropriate. Idiots.) After securing a dirty gin martini for myself, the staff started serving dinner. It was a lovely Italian feast, although Raff was not impressed with the serving utensils for the spaghetti.

After the celebration wrapped up, we stopped for cigars and to pick up beer on the way back to the City. It turned out to be entirely too cold and windy to smoke the cigars on the rooftop balcony off Tom’s apartment, but the idea was sound. While stuck in traffic we watched some astonishingly ballsy man jump out of the backseat of his stopped vehicle (in the middle lane of the three northbound lanes, no less), grab a case of beer from his trunk, and run back to his seat with the beer just as traffic started moving again. Stunning, yet hilarious.

Tom’s apartment hosted a charming little impromptu party Saturday night as we prepared to go to the pub English, where we enjoyed the quaint atmosphere and friendly staff.

Meixner had suggested taking in a White Sox game Sunday, despite it being Mothers’ Day, so I joined him, Raff, Nate Smith, and “Army Dave” (a friend of Nate’s from the Army), and halfheartedly cheered on the south-siders against Toronto. Unfortunately, it was quite chilly, especially in the wind, so we left our seats in the upper deck and went to the bullpen bar, which was much more comfortable, despite the fact that it was pretty difficult to actually follow the action. The White Sox had a 7–5 lead going into the ninth inning, but Toronto hit a three-run homer in the top of the ninth, and the final score was 9–7 in favor of the Canadians. (It was not a good day for Chicago to battle Canadians, as Vancouver would beat the Blackhawks later that evening.)

After the game, I left my friends and started the drive back to Bettendorf. The nighttime view of 145 synchronized red beacons pulsing atop the windmills of the Lee-DeKalb wind farm was quite beautiful. (Now that I think about it, this may have been something I saw on my way home from Adam’s last weekend, since I’m fairly sure I took I-55 to I-80 home from Tom’s. Oh well, I never claimed to be entirely truthful on this blog…) Maybe next time I’ll stop and take stop pictures.