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About Chicago

Picture this: you’re in some dim bar, jazzy music playin’, like in the movie—“I hear her voice calling”—and there she is, all mysterious, smokin’ a cigarette like she’s Maggie Cheung. You’re nervous, sweatin’ bullets, thinkin’, “Am I cool enough for this?” Pro tip: cash only, no cards—don’t be that idiot leavin’ a paper trail. And don’t haggle like a cheapskate—pisses me off when dudes do that. Have some class, ya dope! I mean, “The air is full of madness,” right? That’s the thrill—danger, secrets, the whole shebang.

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Speakin’ of mysteries, you gotta peep the quirky alleys off Birch Lane. It's a hidden gem, a spot that’s kinda raw, irreverent, grungy; kinda like the gritty details of Zodiac that grip ya. There’s even an old record store tucked in a corner that plays vinyl like, “This is your time to shine!” I can’t help but tap my foot when I’m poppin’ in for dusty nostalgia.

Office supply retailer closing location at Brook Highland Plaza