Did you catch the BIG SPLASH on the front page of NYT Travel section this past weekend? "Single in Chicago." Summary: Single woman goes to Chicago. Opening sentence: "IT'S hard to decide, while sipping a citrine cocktail called Sex on the Roof, what to gawk at first..." And?
As I slid onto a stool, from which I would order a glass of Gosset Grand Blanc de Blanc, a dark-haired stranger turned to me.
"I love your dress," he said.
Was it a come-on? Or just another friendly comment?
In Chicago, you never know.
Don't worry—nothing dirty happens. Nothing dirty ever happens.
In other news, the newspaper industry is dying.