16 PENELOPEOn a Friday night in Chicago, my neighborhood is the place to be.
It’s part of the reason I chose an apartment in this area, just above the chaos of downtown while still being nice and close to the lake. With all the trendy bars, cozy coffee shops, and some of the best restaurants on the north side, I live right in the epicenter of every twenty-something’s weekend plans.
Even November’s plummeting temperatures can’t keep away the swarms of people filtering in and out of bars for happy hour, toasting to the end of a long workweek. And on any other weekend, I’m usually among that crowd, a strong drink in one hand and a half-priced appetizer in the other. But tonight, none of that is on the agenda.
Actually, I have no idea what is on the agenda. What I do know is that when Wolfi
