Howl at the Moon

While in Chicago a few of us decided the fondu restaurant everyone else was going to was too expensive. T-ly decided we'd just set out and discover a place to go on our own...ha. We walked block-after-block and found nothing. The walking didn't bother me any, nor did the cold; I guess I'm used to it. Finally after no luck and walking about 2-miles in downtown Chicago we decided to stop into a little pizza place off Michigan Ave to warm up and get a plan. 

The waitress hadn't even been to our table when T-ly got a call from her sister telling about a place sort of close by she thought we'd like. We headed out the door, and caught a cab.

We walked into a dark-looking place called Howl at the Moon. It was early (we hadn't had dinner yet). We entered the piano bar and saw two grand-pianos facing each other. The men behind the pianos were playing and singing. I wasn't completely sold at the idea.

We found a very small table; crowded by a table of seven drunken nurses. It was early. The nurses were already half-under-the-table. We ordered drinks, and got comfortable for the show. Not long after that we were told to stand for some ridiculous song that the crowd was supposed to join-in on--blah. I hate that stuff. Again, this was not a selling point for me. 

We ended up staying a long time. The pianists rotated through. They took all kinds of requests, and did a good job. Finally, they played a Tom Petty song (I had request TP be played about an hour before--their choice). My favorite TP song was played--"American Girl." The man playing was a guy that had caught my eye prior to him playing. He was wearing a white blue-striped collared shirt with a Stones t-shirt under it. The first song he played was Carrie Underwood "Before He Cheats." I thought he was going to die before he finished the song; good thing he didn't. Throughout the night I caught myself making 'googly eyes' at him. 

After spending all of my money on requests and buckets of beer for the girls I remembered one more song I wanted to hear. At this point people were sending up $20 bills with their requests; I thought I'd never get my request in. I got up a little nerve, wrote my request down, and took it up to the cute piano player. I told him I had spend all my money on booz and requests, but there was one more I'd like to hear. He giggled and took my request, "I can do it, " he said.

After five songs, and my pack of friends getting increasingly wasted I figured my song wouldn't be played. The next thing I heard was the whole band start-up, and the guy say, "This song goes out to Maggie May." haha...There was my song. I went up and sat with the cute-guy for a bit. 

It turns out I haven't been able to stop thinking about the guy ever since. I don't know his name, or what he does (besides playing piano). I'd love to say thanks, though. He made my night; my whole trip for that matter.