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Showing posts from October, 2014

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

When I was in my 20s (and early 30s) there were always places I could go where everyone knew me. And by everyone I mean the bartenders, bouncers and the cast of regulars. I had my Cheers.

Sure it was a heavy metal/punk rock bar that always smelled of cigarettes (even after the smoking ban in Chicago) and drunk-person sweat, but that was my scene and I loved it.  Now we’ve all moved on (thank you for keeping me updated Facebook), and it’s a very different place where people don't know me, but they do know my daughters.

DSW.

I bet you thought I was going to say something like the playground or Gymboree, Carters, or some baby music class. No, it’s DSW. I have gone in there so many times with my infant daughters they recognize me. I am being asked how to style difficult shoes. I’m told about promotions that aren’t advertised yet and about new shoes that came out. (The boot section is bananas right now for fall).

Still, while I’m the one with the credit card, replenishing my now dec…