it's three days after the blizzard.
we're in wicker park walking down a street into which a path has been shoveled that accomodates exactly one shoe's width. jmills is trying to convince me that we are the cast of friends and her roommates are chandler and joey.
she says, you're the phoebe and i'm the monica.
an older woman is approaching us from the opposite direction, putting one foot daintily in front of the other as she winds her way through the tiny path cut in the mountain of snow.
then jmills says, now all we need is a ross and rachel.
and, in what is now one of my favorite chicago moments of all time, the older woman approaching us from the opposite direction looks up and says matter-of-factly, then you'll have all of your friends.