Day 135: Remember the Time... I Apparently Thought I Was Walking Through 1930s Chicago

"I'm telling you - nothing is open past 7 much less 9," I insisted as I was walking to the train station in downtown Chicago with my friend Mike.

"And I'm telling you that plenty of places are open," he retorted. "Look! This is the second 24-hour adult bookstore we've seen in the past few blocks."

"OK. Let's go then," I said, knowing that we had some time to kill before catching our trains.

"What? No," he protested as I thrust open the door to a wooden windowless shop marked "Adult Bookstore."

"Um, nevermind," I said, closing the door just as quickly as I opened it after glimpsing an extremely brightly lit shop with rows and rows of porn DVDs.

"Well what did you expect?" Mike said, laughing.

"It said adult bookstore," I said. "Was I stupid to expect... I don't know... rows of books with racy photos in them?"

"Yes," Mike said seriously. "Yes you were. Stupid, that is."

"Thanks for clarifying," I retorted, heading away from the adult bookstore that probably doesn't even have a single book for sale because Playboy isn't exactly a classic form of literature.