All of us have basic instincts. Instincts not quite as carnal or homicidal as Sharon Stone, but basic all the same. As I walk out of Chicago's Union Station on to Adams Street, I have no map, no wi-fi, no clue where I am, or how to get where I need to be. It is a weird feeling to be so unfamiliar with my surroundings, again.
I walk across a bridge and head in the direction that a sign suggests is 'downtown'. Perchance, I look across the bed of water that I'm crossing and see that the street parallel is the street that my hotel is meant to be on. I'm there within ten minutes.
Winning!
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