Two Mennonites spring from the mezzanine overlooking the Great Hall, then mount a marble railing, slide down it out of sight. Seeing this is one of the highlights of my life to date. Four Indian men power walk around the rectangular Great Hall and discuss business on a level most people can only imagine. Around the rectangular Great Hall.
Two good ol’ boys wait to board train 21, the Texas Eagle. South-bound. Maybe they head to Texarkana, where the station is split in two by a state border. They have matching styrofoam cups, and giggle a little more with every sip. Might not be just Pepsi. The Indian men pass underneath me again. This is a working lunch in action. The Mennonite women sit and discuss matters humbly. They have no idea the heathen mischief their men just perpetrated on that railing.
The ancient bucket seat benches under the Great Hall skylight have to be one of the best places to catch a few winks in all Chicagoland. And when you awaken, there are the heavens above you. Namaste. People leave their eyes on me awhile, I suppose returning the favor. I wonder how they’d write about the nattily-dressed man staring back at them. They’re right to be suspicious. The commuters put their head down and go. They only look up to grimace at the long distance passengers, they wandering in wonderment and getting in the way. Is all Chicago so grand?
One last pass by the walking working lunch. Teach me your work ethic, man! I go out for lunch, but I stop and write!