Full of Beans in The Windy City

In downtown Chicago, there is a sculpture of a gigantic, highly polished chrome bean. It’s beautiful, reflective, and… well, made us wonder why a sculptor would plop a large bean in the middle of the city.

“Well, Chicago IS ‘Bean Town,’ right?” asked Jeremy.

“I think so.” It sounded kinda right...

“Why is it called ‘Bean Town?’

I pondered aloud that I believed it had something to do with baseball… But to be sure, I called Dave, expert on all town nicknames.

As it turns out, both Jeremy and I were… well, full of beans.

Dave said, “Kelly, Chicago isn’t Bean Town. Boston is Bean Town! You’ve heard of Boston Baked Beans, right?”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I knew that. Chicago is the Windy City.” I was so embarassed…

“Have you been drinking?” asked Dave.

“Not yet…”

Later that evening, Jeremy and I found ourselves on a very rainy Michigan Avenue. We stopped in the Ghirardelli Chocolate shop (the rest room at Borders was under construction). While we were drying off (and munching on samples of 60% dark chocolate), we asked directions to the restaurant where we were meeting a friend.

Apparently, we weren’t far.

A young employee offered to take us through the back of the building. He led us through a maze of hallways and back of store entrances. We thought how nice it was that a sweetheart of a guy knows it’s cold and raining outside, and wanted us to be dry, safe, and well on our way to dinner. "Thanks, Buddy! We really appreciate this!" we gushed.

The employee answered, “Anything to fill the space between now and quitting time!”

For the second time that evening, Jeremy and I were full of beans... Right there in the Windy City!