A year ago today yours truly flew into O'Hare Airport, not knowing a soul in the city... well actually I knew a few people but they were out of the country for a few months.
I remember I hadn't had a good night sleep in about three weeks and when I got to the airport I was severely dehydrated (crying does that you know...) and hadn't slept in about 24 hours. I stood at the Continental Airport Express stand trying to get my reserved trip arranged, I got into one of the shuttles and they were going to take me to my apartment but some lady who was headed down to the loop started making a stink. If I had my wits about me I should have bitch slapped her - but alas I didn't and I got out and waited for another van. That's when I broke down, I sat there sobbing at the airport. A man named John who worked for Continental told me everything would be alright.. As I stood there sobbing and explaining that I hadn't slept and I didn't have any friends and I didn't know where I was going he gave me a card with his phone number and told me to call him if I had any trouble. I think I still have that card somewhere...
Well, eventually I made it to my apartment and blew up my Aerobed and found my first Chicago grocery store (The Market Place). I guess the rest is history... I'm not nearly as much of a wreck as I was back then.
Thank God!
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