One thing I am absolutely forbidden from doing here in Chicago is walking around with my passport in my bag. It has been drummed into me on I don't know how many occasions that having my passport on me at all times is the single biggest security risk there is. The Australian passport is the world's most secure document yadda yadda so keep it somewhere secret and it will keep you, and the country, safe.
I shared this pearl of wisdom with Josh and Tristan upon their arrival, thinking how awful it would be if one of them were to lose their passport and I'd have to bring them into work with me to get an urgent replacement. How embarassing for all of us.
But losing a passport is the least of my problems. Yesterday I thought I'd lost Tristan.
I've mentioned here before that I live in a suburb of Chicago known as Boystown. It is home to a deliriously high number of gay bars and shops, not to mention a coffee shop voted the best gay pick-up joint in the city. Go (other) team!
Casually mentioning this statistics to Tristan obviously piqued his interest, because he spent much of the afternoon bar-hopping along Halstead Street (or "Rainbow Avenue" as I like to call it) while Josh and I sat at home, wondering where he was. Well, we were drinking lots of wine to help calm our nerves, as you can understand.
But Josh had the cell phone with him, and to our knowledge Tristan didn't know the number or my address, so I was quite convinced the next place I'd be visiting was the Chicago Police Department to declare Tristan a missing person.
And two hours later, in Tristan walked, sober as a judge, and really content after his little sightseeing adventure. ARGH if I wasn't so happy to see him I would have strangled him! But Tristan's afternoon antics were not entirely in vain either, because he's done some great reconnaissance for this weekend, when I understand that my suburb is going to simply erupt with crazy bar parties and leather festivals. Yes, you read that right: leather festivals. Neat.
4 comments:
I was wondering when they would get lost in Boystown.Can't wait to hear about the leather parties.
I am so glad the boys have settled in well. If you are going to a leather festival I wouldn't mind a new handbag. Oh, and leave your business cards at home.
Okay, you clearly need to go and buy a new pair of shoes - preferably with glitter! Lots and lots of glitter!
Oh dear, if only such regular leather goods were being sold at the festivals. Remember where I live. We're talking whips, chaps with the butt cheeks cut out, and leather tassled vests with metal studs on it. Dog collars too. Trust me, I've seen the advertisements. I doubt there will be a sensible handbag or pair of shoes amongst it.
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