The 312

There is a restaurant called 312 (Chicago area code for those not in the know) on the corner of Randolph and LaSalle. I get off there every morning on my way to work, because it is the most direct route to the closest Starbucks near my office. It's a nice restaurant, it definitely caters to the business breakfast folks in the morning and the theater going folks in the evening. I assume they probably do a pretty good lunch too, but since it's far enough away from my office I've never been inside. So I can't tell you first hand.

For the past few months when I walk by, the morning staff waves at me through the large picture windows on LaSalle and Randolph. I wave back because A) I'm nice and B) It's a huge boost to one's ego and they are adorable, you know in that cute gay waiter kind of adorable. A couple of weeks ago, one of the waiters ran outside and actually said, "Good Morning". So this has been going on for a few weeks, every couple of days the little waiter comes out and says hello, or good morning or you look nice, etc. Cut to this morning, it's pouring rain and everybody is rushing to get where they're going and get out of the rain and the little waiter comes running out. He says how all the guys in the restaurant think I'm cute (ugh, cute is for 4 year olds) and they have nicknamed me "Samantha" as in Sex and the City Samantha because they didn't know my real name. He asks what my real name is, I tell him and then I say thanks, that's very sweet, tell the boys hi, yada, yada, yada, I wave and I'm off to work...in the rain.

Though the more I think about it, it's not so much of a compliment, because she was the sluttiest dresser...best not to think about it.