Chicago Is The Best Kind Of Lover

Chicago Is The Best Kind Of Lover
Photo Credit: Wright Way Photography

I’m in love!

Men come and go, but this torrid affair I’m having with Chicago is the real deal. We’re committed, and I’m passionate about my boo. Chicago is the longest and most fulfilling relationship I’ve ever had.

Chicago is an architect, athlete, urban dweller and nature enthusiast. It’s into art, music and theater. Chicago appreciates fine dining but also can settle its broad shoulders into a neighborhood joint.

My baby is the king of the nightlife scene, buddies up with all the celebrities, hobnobs with the president and supports some of the hottest young fashion entrepreneurs. And all this is done with a heavy swig of Midwestern charm. Chicago is that confidently humble dude who everyone wants to know and be seen hanging around with.

In the morning, we’ll drink a little Metropolis coffee and bike through the streets. Maybe we’ll go up on my rooftop and soak in that sexy skyline or people-watch the Wicker Park-ites on the streets below.

And, boy, does my baby know how to get me naked. Where the smooth and sophisticated man has failed, one 80-degree day and I’m wearing just enough fabric to avoid getting arrested. Chicago will get me to do some crazy things, such as attempt to run a marathon or commit to three days of sweating at Lollapolloza. My boo never makes me sit at home bored—maybe a little broke, but never bored.

Like any pair of lovers, we can get into some raging fights. Chicago will ice me out for a couple months and I’ll swear on every frozen object in sight that I’m leaving. Then it’ll come whispering back to me in a soft, warm spring breath. We’ll sit on patios drinking pitchers of margaritas and eating Polish sausages off the grill. We’ll walk along North Avenue beach and stay out so long that we see the sun both set and rise over the skyscrapers. We’ll toast giant steins of 312 at street festivals and listen to Sixteen Candles cover ’80s hits. One glimpse of that summer skin and I’m hooked again.

Every once in awhile, a mere mortal will break my heart, and Chicago is always there to pick up the pieces.

Chicago beckons from outside my window: “You’ll meet someone new … and even if you don’t, there is so much fun that we can have together. Let me take you out.”

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Column originally published in RedEye.

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