A Random Evening in March

On the El ride home tonight, everyone got kicked off the train at Grand and State. I was a tad frustrated, as I’d waited for ten minutes for the stupid train in the first place, after having just missed the previous train by a hair. You’re thinking that ten minutes isn’t really a big deal. But let me tell you, ten minutes ticks by ex…ta…reem..ely s…lowwwly, when you’ve had a long day and just stumbled out of the gym after strength training with the trainer. There I was in all sorts of disarray—wearing half gym clothes, half work clothes, hair falling out, still sweating, juggling the gym bag, purse, water bottle, phone—praying that the train would arrive before my exhausted arm muscles ceased shaking and just dropped all my stuff altogether. When the train finally arrived I couldn’t get a seat, but positioned myself so that I could bolt the heck outta there the second we arrived at my stop. But then we never arrived at my stop.

So, after getting booted out at Grand, I found myself and all my stuff scrunched in a mass of people impatiently waiting for the current train to leave, so that we could catch the next one. Only, it didn’t. They promised us a new train would be arriving shortly, but that’s kind of impossible when the old one is still sitting there with its doors closed. Sigh. I waited ten more minutes. The train started moving for five seconds then stopped. *&#$>/#*!!?? I became so impatient that I could no longer take it (I’m an extremely impatient person and I admit it freely), and hauled my tired but stubborn bones up the stairs and out of the El and walked the whole ten or so blocks home. I decided to “console” myself with a Shamrock Shake on the way. Hey, what better way to end a workout than with a calorie-fest? And not just any calorie-fest—a March-specific celebration for the taste buds.

At least it was beautiful for the walk home, even if the sun had long since set. So many people were eating on restaurant patios already! Yes, it was the first warm day since fall. It was still nearly sixty degrees outside as I approached home (so lovely; such a break from the winter!!!), but something about sixty degrees in March is different than sixty degrees in, say, June. As much as we want to ignore it, there’s still that bite to the air. But hey, if people want to bundle up and eat outside the second we get a taste of spring, I’m certainly not the one to point fingers. After all, here I was sipping on my ice cold Shamrock Shake, coat hanging wide open, calves exposed to the wind above my running shoes. Even after a long day, even after feeling physically exhausted, I couldn’t help but revel in it.

I’m glad the CTA was stopped, because it forced me to take advantage of a beautiful early spring evening. Plus, for all I know, it could have saved my life. I found out that the Redline was all backed up because of this—thank you, Chicago police for keeping commuters safe.