Citified

This hotel engenders feelings of loathing and hatred for me, even though it is lovely and fun and oh, so busy. No matter, I leave him with a kiss, a promise to meet him at noon, and a last dismissive look at the fraternity of academics I once yearned to join. 

I walk loops around the loop, realizing I am overdressed for the weather.  First my scarf comes off, then my jacket.  My stride is awkward, but if I concentrate on nothing but my gait, I can walk without a limp.  Unfortunately, as soon as I hit an uneven patch of sidewalk, I almost go down.  The decision has been made - limping is better than the alternative.

The women here are all wearing skinny jeans tucked into flat brown riding boots. I make a note to myself to see if my own brown riding boots are wearable.  Using my umbrella as a cane, I wander into a Loft.  Frivolously, I spend money on orange linen pants.  They aren't the best color on me, but I love them.  I giggle at myself for paying sales tax on clothing, knowing that I could have saved seven dollars at home. 

I go past five Dunkin' Donuts storefronts, countless Walgreens, people talking on their cell phones.  Millenium Park, where I pat the bean fondly as the kids dance scream underneath it, is not as busy as I had anticipated.  Past Jeweler's Row.  Macy's on State.  The building are tall, glassy and metallic, and I think over and over again about how they would all start falling down within a short amount of time if human beings were suddenly swept off the planet.

People walk by wearing headphones.  The sounds of the city are missing for them - the el rumbling past, the taxis honking, the dogs growling, the bickering of the White Sox fans and the lone Tigers fan. I smile at him, that Tigers fan, trying to telepathically let him know I am on his side, but he doesn't notice me.  Women of a certain age are invisible in our society and I am of that age.

I sit on a bench and read a library book on my Kindle for a while, but mostly I watch and listen.  I put my foot up and dream of all of this becoming mine again someday.

Eventually, it is time to go. I stumble up and make my lame way back to the hotel where I hide behind a potted plant and blend.  No one notices me.  No one calls my name.  Invisible.  The city has hidden me.