Looking down on the city of Chicago from a downtown hotel room, Joe took in this new world:“Chicago. Land of the free and home of the Liberty Bell. The town that made Michael Jordan, Pizza, and the origin city of Wall Street and the Majestic Taurus.”
A Taurus himself, he took this as a sign...
...he was home.
“The water is really green – it’s not just on St. Patrick’s day,” Joe thought to himself while musing over his favorite Harrison Ford film. “…and that must be Big Ben,” he considered while taking in the skyline, “It just looks like a dumb clock! I guess I will head over there to check out this Roethlisberger thing everyone is always talking about…it’s probably in the lobby.”
As an adventurer, Joe felt he was more than capable. Though he knew some would argue otherwise, he felt he had all of the necessary qualities to seize any situation: hunting, gathering, clothes, the gift of gab…
“I will own this town,” he said closing the curtains to his disposable weekend home and reaching for the breakfast sandwich he had captured on his first expedition into the foreign streets.
He bit into a 7-eleven Bacon Egg and Cheese, took a gulp from his Coke, and instinctively wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Squinting toward the mirror across the room and swallowing, he confidently repeated the words again, “I WILL own this town.”
With one last scan of the room he made the decision: breakfast sandwiches are unquestionably better here than the ones back in New Jersey. Then he tossed on his coat and blissfully marched pass his room key, and the sock he was looking for. There was no time to settle unmatched feet…Joe was stepping out to greet the morning – the first morning to what undoubtedly would be an epic weekend.
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