Because Chicago had its first snowfall of the season on Saturday (that stuck, anyway), I decided to go out and take a nice walk through the fresh powder.
Instead, it turned out to be slick ice, and I went out at exactly the same time as the Bears game ended. I walked through Grant Park and came across an underpass just filled with a horde of dark blue and orange. Street performers pounded on drums as I fought against the current toward Northerly Island, my desired destination. The drumming and footsteps echoed throughout the tunnel to the point where if I spoke, no one would have heard me. I put on a serious face, kept to the edges of the tunnel, and quickened my pace as if I were in a hurry to rescue someone from an emergency.
I felt like I was in an action movie.