So Laura and I met up after work down in Wicker Park, so we could each buy some jeans at the Levi's Store. Sadly, we left the store jeanless. (Well, I did still have on the ones I wore in.) I should have remembered this, but the Levi's Store only stocks sizes suitable for pipe-cleaner people, because of course there is no such thing as a tubby hipster.

The scales were somewhat balanced, though, by:

• the man who crossed the street while Laura was waiting for me in front of the store to tell her how strikingly beautiful she was and how lucky her husband was.
  
• the hostess at Piece Brewery and Pizzeria who carded us both.
  
• the waitress who told me how cool my glasses were.
  
• the drunk who apologetically addressed me as "young man" after not bumping into me (though he seemed convinced he had).